Blind
by Warlordess
Summary: When one of Harry's and Malfoy's rows gets out of hand, Hermione ends up injured. Suddenly, the 'Boy Who Lived' becomes the 'Boy Who Saw'. But can he manage his schoolwork, his Quidditch training, and Hermione's work all at once? H x Hr, G x N fic.
1. Chapter One

**Author -** Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer -** I don't own JK Rowling's masterpiece, Harry Potter. All of the credit and my obsessiveness is thanks to her. No. . . Really. . .!

**Notes -** I just wanna let the readers know that this fic takes place during the trio's sixth year. Yea.

**Summary -** When one of Malfoy's and Harry's rows gets out of hand, Hermione ends up injured. Harry, once known as "The Boy Who Lived" is now "The Boy Who Saw" as he offers to be Hermione's eyes. But can he manage his schoolwork, his Quidditch training, and keep his friend from running into everything at the same time? A Harmony fic.

OoOoO

Harry Potter - **Blind**

Chapter One

OoOoO

Care of Magical Creatures was one of the worst classes to be a part of during the chilly winter season. It wasn't necessarily that the students had to stand outside in the cold and learn about critters that they'd rather see locked behind some magical wall. There were plenty of other things, such as the fact that the wind often ripped their cloaks from over their heads, and the company that they were forced to find themselves in. . .

"Alrigh'; settle down now, you lot!" Hagrid shouted towards the back of the Gryffindor and Slytherin combination class, to where Ron was attempting to hex Malfoy without anyone being any the wiser. Of course, Hermione and Harry were managing to hold him back, but Malfoy was doing quite a good job at raising the redhead's temper.

"Look, Weasley's attempting to rob me of my robes! I suspect that they're worth about four times as much as he pays Potter and the mudblood to hang around him! No wonder you're so poor; you gave up every last Galleon just so that you'd be able to afford your friends, didn't you?" Malfoy gave a very broad smirk and Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and the other group of Slytherins guffawed naturally.

"Harry, Hermione; let go of me! I'm not going to kill him. I don't need to do so much. . . Just let me silence him with a charm so that I can focus on knocking the teeth out of his fat mouth!" Ron stated furiously, and Malfoy and the others laughed even louder while Harry and Hermione, exchanging exasperated looks with one another, strengthened their hold on him.

"Hold it righ' there, Ron." Hagrid sighed as he pulled the gangly Weasley from Harry and Hermione's grasp and pulled him up front. While doing so, he muttered to the boy, "Look, I know that Malfoy is a righ' pain in the arse, but I can' allow yeh to curse him into nex' year. Lucius wouldn' appreciate it." He dropped the redhead up front of the class and patted him on the shoulder, of course sending him about a foot into the ground. Seamus and Neville, who happened to be nearby, rushed forward to pull him out.

Ron dusted himself off and glared brutally back at the white-blond head of his "arch-nemesis" and beckoned Harry and Hermione to join him up front. The two picked up their bags and started mulling through the crowd of students, but Malfoy continued his taunting.

"Then again, perhaps Weasley doesn't have to resort to paying Granger. After all, a mudblood can only afford friends if she loans them her notes, let's them off while on Prefect duty, and pretty much gives up her blood just to make sure that they're satisfied."

At this, Harry turned and took out his wand as well, clearly ready to practice some of the curses he'd taught to the DA the previous year on the Slytherin boy, but Hermione, muttering something along the lines of, "Oh, no. . . Not you too," grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away with all of her strength. Needless to say, it wasn't doing much good.

"Oh, so Potter wants to have a Wizards' Duel right here in the middle of the grounds? Well. . ." Draco whipped out his wand as well, and Harry removed Hermione's grip from his robes, ". . .It's not as if I have any need to complain." It was almost as though he were waiting for this. After all, the previous year, Harry had been the one to send the Malfoy Sr. to Azkaban, and Ginny had cursed him over with the Bat-Bogey Hex.

"Alright' you two, tha's it! I'm seperatin' yeh!" Hagrid huffed reproachfully as he, yet again, stalked towards the back of the group of students, interrupting his lesson to make sure that there was no bloodshed between the two opposing teenagers.

But Malfoy, not wanting to pass up an opportunity to get back at Harry for what he'd done to his family, hurriedly shouted a spell before Hagrid had even made it halfway there again.

"_Senscia_!"

Harry was ready for this. All of his training for things such as the Triwizard Tournament, and his fight with Voldemort and the Death Eaters last year had helped him to prepare.

"_Protego_!"

Everyone had expected the shielding incantation to send the charm straight back at its inflictor. It was a surprise to them all, therefore, when it did indeed rebound. . . Only upon Hermione. She was knocked forcefully off of her feet and Harry stared, horrified, at what he'd done.

Almost everyone leapt forward to see if she was alright, save for the Slytherins, who were mocking her fall as though she were a toddler not yet able to walk correctly.

Hermione, though obviously winded, seemed to be okay. Ron had rushed to her side faster than everyone except for Harry and had knelt down to help her up, but she seemed panic-stricken. The other Gryffindors were muttering about the spell that Malfoy had used, not sure as to what it was capable of.

"Oh, no. . . S-someone. . . Harry, where are you? Ron?" Her tone high, Hermione stared straight ahead of her, and her eyes rested on Harry, who looked back, confused. She didn't seem to realize that he was there. Perhaps the spell had done just a bit more than knock her off of her feet? "Oh, no. . . I can't believe this. . ."

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Ron asked her, also puzzled. He glanced at Harry and the two, along with everyone else, looked to the bushy-haired Prefect, awaiting an answer, "What did he do to you?"

"I can't believe he even knows that one. . . That's N.E.W.T. level. . ." Hermione murmured, as though this was the only problem she had, but Harry and Ron knew better, "He - Malfoy - he hit me with a Sensual Hex!"

This didn't help the situation. Whatever that was, it wasn't anything helpful to the people standing around her. Hagrid leant in on her and held up three of his fingers just in case the girl had knocked her head on the ground and was, perhaps, just a bit out of her mind at the moment.

"How many fingers do yeh see, Hermione?" He asked.

"I - I can't see a thing. . . He blinded me." She finally stated, and the crowd, almost like sitting in on a special show, gasped at the shocking news.

"Okay, back away. . ." Hagrid yelled to the class, waving his arms to shoo them a few paces, "We need to get her to the Hospital Wing, you two. . ." The Professor whispered to Harry and Ron. Both nodded affirmatively and grasped their friend at the shoulders to help her to her feet, leading her around the group of students separating them from Hogwarts castle.

"I'm sorry about that, 'Mione." Harry said to her as they worked their way up the staircase leading through the front doors into the school. She just sniffed slightly and said nothing, leaving him to wonder if she could forgive him. Of course she could. . . She was Hermione, "I promise that I'll make it up to you. I-I'll buy you the Encyclopia of Great British Wizards or something." Suddenly he remembered that, indeed, unless there was a cure for this particular invocation, she'd never be able to read them, "Sorry." He offered her again.

She just waved her hand ahead of her as though she'd rather not think of anything other than getting her sight back, which was probably the case.

"Let's just get to Madam Pomfrey. I know that there's something she can do for this. I remember reading about it somewhere."

"You would." Ron tried to joke and they all gave a very small laugh before reaching the landing above the marble staircase.

They rushed along the halls, avoiding any anonymous people who happened to walk by. Once, Ron had to chase one of the observers off because they were staring so avidly at the spectacle of the girl being led along by the two boys.

"You really should treat others with respect, Ron." Hermione quipped. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry behind her back, for once glad that she wouldn't see him doing it, "And don't you roll your eyes. . . !" Harry grinned slightly to his mate as he sulked.

"Would you care to read my thoughts while you're acting up like this?" The redhead asked her.

"Oh, are you thinking right now?"

"Okay; Hermione, I know that you're in distress. . ." Harry raised his voice when he noticed her open her mouth to object, "But that was really uncalled for."

Ron, most likely thinking about her current condition, shrugged it off, "It's alright, mate. It's not like she hasn't said this to me before." The trio halted for a moment as Harry and Hermione turned to him. Ron turned red in the face, resembling a very large radish, "What?"

Shaking his head, Harry turned and steered Hermione down a corridor leading to the infirmary. He and Ron both knocked loudly and, after a few seconds, an agitated tone was heard from the other side.

"Alright; alright! I'm coming." There was the speedy sound of a lock being undone and Madam Pomfrey poked her head out of the doorway, "Oh, no. Not you again. What have you gotten yourself into this time? Another set of broken bones? Or perhaps you've jumped straight to brain damage?" Her sharp eyes looked Harry over first off, "Well, you seem fine. I don't treat paper-cuts, I'll have you know. And I'm in the middle of my lunch."

"Oh, well, it's Hermione, here." Ron started.

"It's all my fault. Draco Malfoy and I were getting into a bit of a row outside and, well, he tried to hex me with something called a--" Harry was interrupted.

"--It's called the Sensual Hex. It's a general curse that, if used successfully, will rid the opposing wizard or creature of one of their five senses. He blinded me." She added for Madam Pomfrey's sake.

"Oh, no. . . It's the Human Textbook again. . ." Ron groaned. Hermione turned and pinched his arm.

"I'm blind, not deaf." She reminded him, "Try to refrain from insulting me, alright?"

"Yea, yea." He said carelessly as the nurse stood to the side and allowed the two Gryffindors to haul the third inside.

"Just sit her there on that bed." The woman growled exasperatedly, "I'll be right back." Hermione, assisted by Harry and Ron, did as she was told, and the three of them waited cautiously as the nurse walked around looking for something and muttering, "Honestly; kids today and their ability to retain injuries."

"You can, you know, get her back to normal, can't you?" Harry asked desperately. Of course, Hermione had already said that there was a cure, and she'd never been wrong before. . . But that didn't mean that he couldn't worry. After all, it might have existed, but who knew if Madam Pomfrey was prepared to whip it up for them?

"Of course I can. There's little today that magic and mixture can't heal away." The woman turned to them carrying something like a potion, and she poured a bit into a small medical goblet then handed it to Ron, "You two help her gulp that down. It won't repair her eyes immediately, so she'll have to be careful. I'd give it two weeks tops."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. Hermione blind for two weeks? And it was his fault . .

"You can mend bones overnight, but you can't fix the blind so easily?" Ron questioned with a raised eyebrow. Madam Pomfrey turned to stare at him as though she thought him incompetent compared to her skills, which, most likely, he was.

"Remedies exist to heal over time; just because we have our spells and our elixirs doesn't mean that they're readily made to do so much good in so little time. I'm sure that you all know of muggle science. The eyelids are the thinnest flesh on the body. That makes the eyes the easiest to penetrate, thus why legelimency and occlumency center around eyesight. As I said before, the potion will fully heal her, but not for a time-span of two weeks at most. She could have her sight back tomorrow. . ." All three Gryffindors raised their heads hopefully, "But I doubt it. It's best to lay as low as you can and do as little as possible. No stressing your nerves by trying to force your vision back or it may never return. I'll send notice to Professor McGonagall of your condition so that she can turn the news on the other Professors."

"Oh. . ." Hermione moaned under her breath and Harry gave her a sympathetic and guilty pat on the arm, "How will I be able to keep up with classes if I can't read my books. . . ?"

"If you ask me, 'Mione, I think that you could use a rest from all of that reading. I don't think that it's good for the mind to have your face constantly jammed in a book." Ron said knowledgeably but Hermione gave him a withered look.

"Ron, you're just lucky that I don't value your opinion at all, and that I can't see you right now."

Ron turned red again in response.

OoOoO

**Notes -** Oh, wow. . . I've started my first-ever chapterized Harmony fic. Lol. I've only been writing them for a week. Okay, I know that it doesn't seem very. . . Pumpkin-pie-shippy right now, but I'll get to it, so don't worry. It's literally impossible for my to write a fic that doesn't include the slightest bit of romance. And I love Harry and Hermione together, so you can be sure to expect them happening later on. Until then. . . !

Please review. .


	2. Chapter Two

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Author - Chibi / Warlordess

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Disclaimer - I don't own JK Rowling's masterpiece, Harry Potter. All of the credit and my obsessiveness is thanks to her. No. . . Really. . .!

****

Notes - I just wanna let the readers know that this fic takes place during the trio's sixth year. Yea.

****

Summary - When one of Malfoy's and Harry's rows gets out of hand, Hermione ends up injured. Harry, once known as "The Boy Who Lived" is now "The Boy Who Saw" as he offers to be Hermione's eyes. But can he manage his schoolwork, his Quidditch training, and keep his friend from running into everything at the same time? A Harmony fic.

OoOoO

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Harry Potter - **Blind**

Chapter Two

OoOoO

The next day, Hermione awoke in her poster bed with the vibrant red hangings open (well, she couldn't see that they were red, but she was perceptive enough to have noticed over the years). She normally left them shut because the sun always forced her up before she was ready but since Ginny had been the one to help her into her pajama's the night before, she supposed that the girl hadn't known how she liked to sleep. In any case, she shouldn't be picky.

__

Maybe I'll end up opening my eyes and seeing the dormitory. . . Hermione thought hopefully, _That's right. . . There's a slight chance that I'll have my sight back by now. Or maybe it was all just a dream and I just forgot to close my hangings last night._

It was a very broad, couragious thought to come up with, but Hermione couldn't help but be hopeful at this point. She remembered how yesterday had ended. Because she had been so eager to return to her classes, Madam Pomfrey had suggested that she take the rest of the day off and rest in the Hospital Wing until suppertime, when Harry and Ron would come back and help her downstairs.

Though the girl had objected, Harry, obviously feeling ill with guilt, had forced her back onto the bed she was sitting on and told her that there was no way he would let her leave the place until that night. When he and Ron had returned later that evening, they were accompanied by Ginny, who was to be Hermione's aid for things such as dressing herself and using the loo.

Ron had been nice enough to cut up her salisbury steak, which had undoubtedly convinced her of her helplessness and, after losing her appetite, the group had ushered her back up to the Gryffindor Tower, where she requested that Harry and Ron read her the notes they'd recieved from the classes they shared together, and the lesson plans that she'd missed.

"Well, you see, because we almost always rely on you for note-taking, we didn't really do that well on our own. . ." Ron stated sheepishly as Ginny attempted to read his handwriting. Finally, the girl gave up and handed the pages to Harry with an exasperated sigh, who'd had enough experience with Ron's scrawl over the summer.

Needless to say, it was a very disappointing turning in that night.

__

Something that real could never be a dream. . . Hermione thought listlessly, her eyes still closed, ._ . .But that doesn't mean that I can't see, necessarily. . ._

And with that thought, she opened her eyes and saw. . . Absolutely nothing. Irritated, she slammed her fists into her pillow and rose from her position in bed to get up for the day. She crept blindly around the dormitory for her trunk so that she could find some day clothes and accidentally ended up falling over it in her haste. The door to the common room opened up and she heard Ginny sigh from behind her.

"You couldn't wait. . . ? It's the weekend, after all." The younger girl helped her up and assisted her into her sitting place casually in bed before opening the trunk and finding a suitable shirt and pants for her to dress in, "Okay, lift your arms, and. . ." Ginny searched again and found a bra, then helped lift the straps over Hermione's shoulders. The Prefect couldn't help but feel embarrassed around the youngest Weasley, ". . .Oh, please, like I don't see the same thing when I wake up in the morning." She joked blandly, poking the sixth year in the shoulder. Hermione was able to pluck the hooks together on her own and Ginny unfolded the shirt and lifted it over her friends' bushy head, fluffing her hair afterwards, "We'll shower you tonight, alright?" She offered as Hermione hopped around on one foot, attempting to pull on her pants on her own.

"Yea, that's - brilliant!" She grunted, finally succeeding, only to fall backwards into her bed again, "What time is it, anyway?"

"Around nine. Harry's waiting for you down in the common room. Ron went ahead to breakfast." Ginny replied, placing a hand on the older one's shoulder and helping her towards her side table, where she kept her brush. Hermione combed through her hair and then set the hairbrush down again, holding out her hand for Ginny expectantly, who took it and led her through the door onto the staircase leading to the main room of the Gryffindor House.

"Is he still feeling obscenely guilty about all of this?" Hermione asked monotonously and Ginny gave a small laugh.

"Probably, but why shouldn't he? I mean," she could tell that Hermione felt uneasy about Harry's having to do with her condition, "not to be rude, but he was the one who allowed Malfoy to egg him on. He should know better, shouldn't he?"

"He was only trying to defend me!" Hermione stated, with a slight shriek, "Oh, I can't believe him. I swear, if he apologizes to me one more time, I might hit him over the head with his own Firebolt. . . !"

"So long as you don't bruise the broomstick." A new voice replied and Hermione recognized it as Harry's. She was gracious enough to turn a bit red, but other than that, she did nothing to acknowledge that she'd heard him.

"Well, Hermione, do you want me to leave you here, or do you want me to accompany you two down to the Great Hall? I was going to just grab my bag so that I could get to the library after breakfast." Ginny explained.

"I don't mind." Harry stated, taking Hermione by the arm, "So long as you don't join her in beating 'The Boy Who Lived' completely senseless." Hermione stuck her tongue out at him and blew a raspberry.

"You deserve it. And don't you apologize! Not again!" She raised her voice, knowing Harry well enough to understand when he was going to open his mouth to do just that, "That's why you deserve it. It's not your fault, alright? I'm going to get better, so as long as I can keep up with my lessons, I don't really mind. . ." Her tone diminished into a prolonged silence.

"You don't mind not being able to see the Professors, or Ron, or me, or your books, or anything else?"

"I was trying to look on the bright side. Do you want me to hurt you or something?"

"It might make me feel a bit less responsible."

"Okay; fine." Harry shut his eyes and awaited her onslaught but all she did was continue speaking, "Harry James Potter--"

__

Oh, she said 'James'. . . Now I'm in for it. Harry thought.

"--You're 100 responsible for me being like this. It's your fault completely that I can't see a bloody thing. I'd blame you. . . But that's just not true. What is, is that you should know not to let Malfoy get to you. You're so much better than him. Just because you attempted to defend yourself when he shot a hex at you, and just because the shielding spell didn't rebound the hex to the best of its ability, does not make this all to blame on you. So deal with it." Hermione stated, "Now let's get some breakfast. I'm starving."

"That's only because you didn't eat dinner last night. And don't say that it's because we were babying you. . . !" Ginny replied, returning with her bag, "We were _helping _you. There's a difference. When we start speaking in toddler-tongues and playing 'Choo-Choo Train' with your fork, then you have a right to get all fussy about it."

". . .Fine. Just don't resort to helping me so much. I think I know where to put my fork. And, for once, I'm not planning up Malfoy's nose." Hermione laughed. Harry and Ginny joined in as they passed the other students in the halls.

"That's funny; Ron was working on that last night."

"Well, I hope that you were able to tell him to do otherwise." Hermione replied, suddenly quite serious.

"Er. . . No, but McGonagall was when she pulled him away as he was sneaking up on him." Harry replied sheepishly, "To be honest, I was thinking of making a bit of trouble for the git as well, but, well, at that point, you decided to want to go back to Gryffindor Tower, so. . ."

"Hmm." Hermione pursed her lips tightly as they rounded a corner and ended up at the top of the marble staircase yet again, "You're very lucky that I can't see a thing, otherwise I might end up doing something regrettable to you. And Ron." She added as an afterthought, "In any case--"

"--Wait, Hermione, watch your step!" So caught up in the conversation, Harry'd forgotten to warn her about the staircase, only he was too late. She'd already placed one foot out in front of her, off of the level ground, and his shout had only distracted her more. She felt herself falling forward and she squeaked in a terrified way, putting her arms out in front of her as if it'd help, but the next thing she knew, someone grabbed her around her waist and slowly and carefully hauled her backwards.

"Oh, my. . . Harry, I can't believe you almost let me - wait. . ." Hermione halted, catching her breath for a moment and wondering aloud, "Whose got hold of me?"

"Oh; that would be me." Harry replied, letting go of her, "Sorry, but you were the one in mid-conversation, if you don't mind my saying."

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Ginny asked as she knelt down in front of the girl, "That looked pretty awful. . ."

Hermione had somehow forgotten that Ginny was with them.

"I-I'm fine; really. I just wish that I could see. . ." For the first time since the incident, Hermione was fully aware of her handicap. Never before had she felt so worthless to everyone, including herself. The only thing that kept her from breaking out into sobs was the fact that she would indeed get better, even if not immediately.

"It is bloody depressing. . ." Harry replied, uncomfortably aware of the fact that it was his fault, even if Hermione wouldn't say so to him, "But I promise you that I'll help you through this. I'll do anything that I can. I-I'll get you your meals everyday, I'll read you your books, I'll do your schoolwork--"

"--And that's where I draw the line." Hermione stated in a slightly sour way, "It's difficult. . . And I know that it's only temporary. . . But it's difficult none-the-less. . . I hope that Malfoy got what was coming to him. . . Did you ever learn if he was punished for the casting?" She asked the two.

"Well, he managed to convince Snape that he was aiming for some anonymous beast he saw in the Forbidden Forest from his place--" Ginny started.

"--Not that he had to work very hard to do so." Harry continued bitterly, "But we think that Professor Dumbledore offered some sort of consolation detention or whatnot. We're not sure, but on our way down to the Great Hall for supper last night, he came striding upstairs from Snape's office, and Malfoy was with him. He didn't look exactly cheery."

"How come no one told me?" Hermione sounded extremely put out, as Ginny and Harry both pulled her to her feet and,. very slowly, they managed to help her down the stairs.

"I suppose it's because, well. . . Don't take this the wrong way, but we're not used to having to tell you everything that's right visible to the average person. We're new at this too." Ginny attempted to say offhandedly, but she knew that she sounded a bit cold.

The group of three made it into the breakfast hall without another word, but were stopped short by a sudden loud volley of catcalling and jeering from the table closest to them.

"Prats. . ." Harry muttered mutinously, glaring at them all. For some reason, his eyes wandered to the other tables as well, all of which had gone very quiet upon their entry, minus the Gryffindor table, and then his eyes landed on Hermione, whose brow was screwed up as though trying to make out what was going on as clearly as she could, "Er. . . Let's move on before the food is cleared away."

"Wait; you can tell me what they're saying, or doing. . . It's not like I'm going to overreact or something." Hermione said, and in an effort to lead the way to the House table while in mid discussion, she ended up running into Hagrid, who was just entering the hall. The impact sent her sailing backwards and Harry and Ginny rushed forward again to retrieve her, "Oh; I'm sorry, er--"

"--Hermione, yeh shouldn' be walkin' along on yer own. Harry, yeh'd do right teh keep a better eye on yer friend." Hagrid said, standing to the side as a few more young stragglers came rushing through the main doors, "Anyway, how's yer sight? Any better?" He continued to speak.

"If you couldn't tell, no. . ." Hermione sighed despondently, "But I am getting along, obviously." The calls and jeering from the Slytherin table got louder again after word had passed of her bumping into the large Professor, "Honestly, what are they saying?" She huffed at Harry.

"Oh, er. . ." He looked around just in time for Malfoy to get up from his place and do a fake run, smacking into the wall. When he turned back to the table, full of laughing comrades, he had an idiotic expression on his face, like that of a witless being not in their right mind, "Oh, get over it already, you git!" He yelled, not able to stop himself. When he turned back to face Hermione, he attempted to keep up the charade, "It's nothing; really."

"Oh, well that shout wasn't suspicious at all." Hermione rolled her eyes, "Anyway, can we get to the table now? I really am hungry. Bye, Hagrid!" She called after they'd started their treck across the large room, attempting to turn and wave at him, only she ended up in the direction of the Ravenclaw table at the other end of the hall. Harry looked over just in time to spot Cho staring at them, only right as their eyes met, she turned back around and started talking with her D.A. friend from last year, Marietta Edgecomb.

Not feeling the slightest twitter, he faced the opposite way and he and Ginny sat Hermione as comfortably at the table as possible, waiting for her to swing her legs over the bench before joining her. After taking their places, they both started pouring things into her bowl and on her plate. Some toast loaded with marmalade, some cream of wheat. . . When Hermione started eating, she ended up holding her spoon upside down, and so Harry, not wanting to crowd her, simply turned it the right way and made sure that her plate was right in front of her, and in her reach.

Breakfast was pretty uneventful besides the latter, and so the group, this time accompanied by Ron, began leading their way back out of the hall and into the main corridor leading up to the tower. Upon reaching the doors, they ran into Cho and her friend who, though still featuring a slight discoloration from the onslaught of Hermione's hexing the year before, seemed rather pleased. Harry attempted to avoid staring at Cho, as they'd done at the end of the year before, but she silently grabbed his wrist and, when he looked at her face, her eyes pleaded with him to stay behind.

"You lot go on; I'll only be a moment." He said, hoping that Ron wouldn't tell Hermione about who he was with. For some reason, it seemed inappropriate that he'd consider a conversation with Cho Chang more important than getting her back into the Gryffindor common room. Once they had left him behind, he turned back to his ex-girlfriend, "What is it?" His tone was less than appreciative towards their meeting.

For once, Cho didn't look as though she were desperately close to tears. To the contrary, she seemed to be holding back the urge to smile kindly at him, as though expecting that he wouldn't agree with it.

"We both. . ." And at this point, Marietta joined the small queue, ". . .Just wanted to say that we're sorry for last year; really. And we hope that Hermione gets better. I don't like leaving things undone. The last time I did that. . . He ended up never returning." Now her eyes were starting to water, but she seemed to be forcing the sobs back, "If you two need anything, I'm willing to help. Maybe I can keep Hermione caught up with her studies since I'm in Ravenclaw. . ."

Part of Harry was more than willing to accept the assistance, knowing quite well how much Hermione loved to study, but another part of him still wasn't ready to let Cho have anything to do with his life, especially when it centered around the very friend that, just last year, she wasted no time in bawling over everytime they were together.

"That's alright." Harry said, "I think I can handle it. But I'll be sure to keep your offer in mind, thanks." And, with that, he continued following after Ron, Ginny, and Hermione.

OoOoO

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Notes - WooT! I've finished chapter two! Believe it or not, it was finished the same day as chapter one, but I wanted to space the continuity of this fic out evenly, thus the wait. Don't worry; you'll be getting a ton more Harmony moments soon. I've already discussed a major point with a few friends and they were squealing, it's safe to say. So I think you'll appreciate what I post within the next couple of chapters. So, thanks for reading, and I hope to receive a mighty few reviews. Cause I know you love me.

. . .You _do _love me, right. . . ?

Oh, yes, wait. . . In a review someone sent me for the first chapter, they claimed that I'd spelt "Hermione" as "Harmony" in the summary. Let me tell you that I was never trying to spell Hermione's name. Harmony is a name for the H/Hr ship. Har – for "Harry" and mony – for Hermione. Yea. Just so you know. Lol.


	3. Chapter Three

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Author - Chibi / Warlordess

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Disclaimer - I don't own JK Rowling's masterpiece, Harry Potter. All of the credit and my obsessiveness is thanks to her. No. . . Really. . .! Also, the part where Crookshanks ends up on Harry's head; that part is all thanks to my friend and mini-beta, Silverflare; thanks, babe!

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Dedication – This chapter is dedicated to Silvie because of all of her help in the making of it.

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Notes - I just wanna let the readers know that this fic takes place during the trio's sixth year. Yea.

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Summary - When one of Malfoy's and Harry's rows gets out of hand, Hermione ends up injured. Harry, once known as "The Boy Who Lived" is now "The Boy Who Saw" as he offers to be Hermione's eyes. But can he manage his schoolwork, his Quidditch training, and keep his friend from running into everything at the same time? A Harmony fic.

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Harry Potter - **Blind**

Chapter Three

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Later that night, Harry felt as though he would have surely accepted Cho's offer to help him, had he known what Hermione was willing to put him through. Perhaps she didn't know what she was doing to him, but Harry's mind was wearing down by the end of the day, and it was all because she had made sure to keep up with her studies. . . Meaning that he spent over four hours reading curses, counter-curses, jinxes, and descriptions and definitions of their abilities to her so that she could be sure to be ahead in Transfiguration and Charms. Thankfully, she hadn't even begun discussing Arithmancy or Care of Magical Creatures or any of her other many classes, as Harry was sure his head was about to split into two.

". . .Alright. . ." He sighed, continuing from the page he'd left off on. He'd just spread the word to the rest of the Quidditch team (as he'd been elected for the captaincy) that they'd be having their first practice the next morning. Ginny and a few others had signed up for Chaser try-outs and he'd hoped for everyone to have a full night of rest so that they'd all have a clear head tomorrow, ". . .'Upon actively transfiguring an inanimate object into something vital, concentration is key. If not fully attentive, the witch or wizard may indeed end up'. . . Hermione, this is obvious, second year work! I know that you've known this for awhile now!" He couldn't help but glare at her, even though she couldn't see to return it, "Really, now, if you're willing to be so far ahead, maybe it's worth actually learning something that you haven't known since your first day!"

"Harry, N.E.W.T.'s take place next year, and after that, we're shifted into the wizarding world to make our own way. If I can't pass these exams by making positive that I know all that I can, then I'm going to be nothing out there. You should be one to speak, in any case; these lessons are good for you."

"Yes, but I'm supposed to be helping you learn, not vice-versa. How come it seems that I'm just in the middle of a self-tutoring session?" He replied exasperatedly. Hermione looked down and turned slightly pink, as though upset with his temper, "Ah, I'm sorry, 'Mione. But we both know that you're smarter than this. Why don't we just move onto something more challenging for you?" Yes, and ignore the ravaging ache in his head. . .

"Fine; here." She gave a slight sniff, as though she was conflicting between the knowledge that she hadn't gotten her way, and the thought that he knew she could be studying something so much more advanced, as she knelt for her bag and held it out for him, "Do you think you could find my Advanced Charms guide? I'd like to work on pre-apparation spells. They're good study for our Apparation exams next summer."

"Sure; yea. . ." Harry yawned slightly as he pulled out the textbook she had been looking for, which, quite luckily, was on top of her bag of things, "Okay. . . Um, it says here that you have to know the object, and it's appearance and whatnot, that you want to transfer, so – wait – what's that?" Harry stopped abruptly and screwed up his brow in concentration, overhearing a desperate 'meow' come from somewhere near the door to the girls' dormitories.

"It sounds like Crookshanks. . . His tail's trapped in between the doors again, isn't it?" Hermione sighed and cautiously got up from her seat, before remembering that it was more likely for her to fall out the window than to make it successfully over to her cat, "Harry, do you think you could get him for me and bring him over here?"

". . .Well, let's say that, for the sake of practice, we use him as our object of transportation?" Harry knew the idea wouldn't be exactly pleasing to Hermione, and he was quite right, of course.

"Or how about I just transport your head to the toilet, you – you—" She seemed unable to come up with a name horrible enough to describe the mention of his crime, "—I can't believe you'd even suggest that, Harry! Really; I thought that you had a heart! Or are you just lazy?"

"No; Hermione, seriously… After all, what object's appearance do you know more than your own cat, right?" It seemed that the explanation had finally won her over. She still seemed angered by his insinuation that she loved the thought of casting spells on her pet, but, for the sake of knowledge, she seemed more in agreement to follow his direction.

". . .Alright; fine." She took out her wand, "So, what else? What's the incantation? The wand movement?"

"The book says that it's not unlike the movement used for the levitation charm, "Wingardium Leviosa". Huh; then this should be quite simple for you. All we have to do. . ." He drew in a small breath as he continued reading, ". . .Is play the wand movements in reverse order – flick and swish – flick again, and concentrate on the object you'd like to move, and the place you'd like to move it to. So, Crookshanks and your lap, right?" He questioned her. After she nodded, he went on, "That's it. The phrase is '_Imotrani_ _Lite_'. It sounds simple, but –"

"- Like I don't know the complexity of N.E.W.T. level spellcasting, Harry. Really. Just move a bit out of the way so that we can try and make sure nothing goes wrong, and let me at it. . ."

"Yea; sure. . . Thank goodness. . ." He muttered, but Hermione heard him.

"What's that mean?"

"Well, after all of that studying, it's an amazing feeling, being able to get to my feet, stretch a bit, and relax my head—" He stated, hoping it wouldn't upset her anymore. Girls' were complex things in themselves, after all.

"Oh. . ." She seemed intent to ignore the statement he'd made and held out her wand arm, "Alright; I'm ready to give it a go. . . Er. . ." She cleared her throat, closed her sightless eyes, and concentrated on the necessities, "'_Imotrani_ _Lite_'. . ." The next thing Harry knew, something large and fluffy with claws had landed on his head and proceeded to rip away at his scalp.

"Argh!" He attempted to rid his head of the bloody animal, but it seemed that Crookshanks was intent on his position until further pleased, "Get off of me, you!" Finally losing his mind, Harry pulled out his own wand and poked at the feline in the ear. The ginger fluffball finally found it in him to jump to the side, landing on the table Harry and Hermione had been using. Upon hearing his shout, Hermione panicked. What could she have possibly done now?

"Oh, no; Harry, what's wrong!" She tried finding him by holding out her arms and wandering blindly around the room, but Harry couldn't care enough to help her out.

"You know all of the wand movements, and you know what your cat looks like, and you know the bloody incantation! How could you have gotten that wrong! You're Hermione!" Harry yelled at her, not feeling immediately sorry about it.

"Well, I hate to add to your guilt trip, but it's all thanks to you that I'm having difficulties!" Hermione replied loudly with a shriek, still hoping to get to him and find out what had gone wrong, "What happened? Where did Crookshanks go?"

"Oh, that's right! Worry about your cat! Who cares about the boy he just tried shaving the flesh off of!"

". . .Is-is that what I did. . . ?" Her voice had suddenly dropped about ten decimals, and it was very short and timid, "Oh, Harry. . . I'm so sorry. . . Maybe your helping me was a bad idea. . . I mean, it's not like I can't do this on my own, really. . . Perhaps Ginny would be better. . . She's already helping me with my personal issues, and we all know that she's just a bit more focused on her grades than you and Ron are. . ." She sniffled at the thought, uncomfortable with the ways things were, "I really didn't know. . . And I'm sorry about what I said. . . It's not your fault. . . I guess that the humanity in me can't help but feel a bit venomous about everything. . ."

". . .And why not? It's my fault that you're like this. And it's my trouble to help you out." Harry let a small grin crack his otherwise furious expression, "You know, a moment ago, we almost sounded like you and Ron. . . I don't think we've ever been like that before. It actually feels quite strange. . . Almost relieving to know that we can have a normal type of friendship where we actually fight out loud like this. But I think I prefer actually staying friends." His grin widened.

"Definitely. . ." She gave small laugh, "Now, really, how bad is it?"

"What?"

"What Crookshanks did to you. I mean, do you need to go see Madam Pomfrey now, too? Or did that 'what?' signify that you're now just as deaf as I am blind, making it useless for me to try and talk to you?" She asked him, aware that she was rambling.

"Oh; it's, uh, nothing. . ." But he was aware that he was bleeding from one of the scratches he'd obtained from her cat. He didn't know why he couldn't just tell her what was wrong. After all, she probably knew a quick and easy healing spell that would have closed it up immediately (although she'd probably end up blowing off his nose in the process of helping him out). Perhaps he just didn't want to see her tearful eyes again (as he'd never been that great at handling a crying girl), or it could have been that he didn't want to hear Hermione blame him anymore. He doubted that she would, but hearing her say it just once made him feel as though she truly must have believed it, somehow. . . Her words were reverberating in his mind, and he couldn't help but hate that fact, "But how about we just end this for tonight? I know this may sound selfish, but I've got a Quidditch Team to create tomorrow morning, and I need all of the sleep that I can get. . ."

". . .And I'm sure that we're both slightly terrified that I might send you crashing into the fireplace while the flames are still active the next time around, as well." Hermione joked weakly, "Anyways, yea, let's just go to bed. After all, we can just get back to this tomorrow." Harry couldn't help the slight groan that escaped him. It was just splendid to think of three hours of watching potential Quidditch team players blunder their way along the pitch on a broomstick, followed by a shower and then about five more hours of practicing incantations with Hermione. Okay; so Hermione wasn't really the problem. . . But did she have any idea what a toll all of that reading took on a normal-sized brain?

He knelt down to pick up her things and hand them to her, but she just shook her head and told him to leave them behind.

"After all, who in their right mind would want to take on my load?" She finished, and she was quite right. As she yawned and Harry bid her goodnight and began walking up the staircase to the boys' dormitory, she continued speaking, "Okay, Ginny. . . I guess that I'm ready to go now." Only that's where the issues started.

Harry dreaded the knowledge he'd be forced to grasp as he turned around. Ginny wasn't there. Of course she wouldn't be, as he'd advised all Quidditch team members and those who'd signed up on the list to get to bed early so that they'd be as ready as ever possible for the practice session the next day.

"Ginny. . . ?" Hermione seemed unaware that she was talking to an empty Common Room and so Harry helped her out.

"Er. . . Sorry about this, but I don't think that she's here. She must have gone up to bed earlier. . ."

"Oh. . ."

"Yeah. . ."

There wasn't much else to contribute to the conversation and so Harry and Hermione were left standing awkwardly across the room from each other, both silently mulling over who'd be the first to come up with an idea on how to get the bushy-haired Prefect to her dormitory. After all, Harry couldn't walk her up there, what with the age-old law about Hogwarts boys being less trustworthy than girls. . . And, though there was the very slight thought in the back of Harry's mind about offering Hermione his bed for the night, he knew that it wouldn't bode well with her, or any of the guys in the sixth year room that they shared.

"Well, I suppose that the armchair next to the fire will have to do." It was a simple finish to the discussion, and he could have just left it that way, once again bid her goodnight, and continued his walk up the staircase.

But Harry wasn't that witless, or blundering, or daft. He watched the girl as she slowly found the armchair that was about two feet away from her originally, worked her way around to the front, and fell back into the depths of the cushion beneath her. She gave a small groan as she twisted a certain direction, trying to make herself comfortable and then another, attempting the same thing as before. No matter what, Hermione just couldn't get there herself, so. . .

Harry didn't know what it was that made him consider the next thing that came to mind. He didn't know if it was the liability he was feeling for her condition, or the exhaustion and pain in his head from the many hours of studying they'd just completed, or maybe it was the thought that he just wanted her to feel eased after all of the trouble she'd been forced to go through the past day and a half. All he knew was that, next moment, Harry Potter was striding back into the Common Room with only a single thing on his mind, and that was Hermione.

He said nothing as he sat down beside her and helped her up a bit so that they'd both fit slightly easier beside one another, and then he allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder. It didn't really mean anything besides the fact that he wanted to be sure that Hermione knew he was there for her, no matter what. It wasn't supposed to be interpreted in any way other than he'd planned on it.

It was just Harry hoping to console his best friend into a night's sleep so that, next day, she'd wake up slightly less nettled than today. It was just Harry playing his part in the recovery of his best friend, of which he'd accidentally injured in one of his idiotic rows. It was just Harry, "The Boy Who Lived", Potter, falling asleep with a girl, and his best friend, "Bookworm", Hermione Granger, in the middle of the Gryffindor Common Room, where they could both have been easily spotted by any number of people making their way around the tower.

Gee; and he thought that it would be simple enough to understand the situation.

OoO

"Harry. . ." Someone muttered, prodding him in the shoulder. Harry almost swung out to meet the person's hand and swat it away, but he was still too deeply interested in the dreamless sleep that he'd been in the middle of moments before, "Harry, wake up. . . It's, er, time for you to eat breakfast so that you can head out to the pitch. . ." He was finally able to distinguish the voice as Ron's and, blinking once, Harry peered blearily at his mate and attempted to stretch himself fully before getting up. . . Only, something was holding him back, "Er. . . You might want to wake Hermione and ask her to get off of your arm." Ron's tone seemed slightly chilly now as Harry attempted to digest the information he'd just been fed.

Hermione. . . ?

On his arm. . . ?

But a comment like that would only make sense if the two of them were. . . Oh, bloody Hell. . .

His understanding was enough for Harry to jump to his feet, accidentally knocking Hermione back onto the other half of the large armchair and causing her to almost fall off of the edge. Ron ended up catching her by the shoulders and cautiously pressing her back into her original position before the two boys turned their attention from her to each other.

"W-what time is it, again?" Harry questioned, yawning tiredly.

"It's. . ." Ron's suspicious glance turned to his watch for a split second to confirm the reply he was about to give, "Almost eight. Tell me, mate, what was that all about? You know – you and Hermione. Laying there. Together. In the same chair." With every segment of a statement, Ron's tone seemed to become slower and more careful, as though he wasn't sure how it'd come out if he didn't fully control it.

"Oh; that? That was nothing. . . ! Really; Ginny forgot to wait for Hermione to go to bed, and she couldn't get comfortable on her own last night and I couldn't just leave her there so—" Harry was interrupted.

"Really?" The redhead's expression was doubtful, "Because you two looked mighty comfortable, let me tell you."

"No; really. It was nothing. I mean, she's Hermione, after all."

". . .I resent that, you know." A new voice stated, and the two boys turned to look at the third member of their trio once again as she moaned and cleared away the sleep from her eyes, pulling on her robes so that some of the wrinkles from her night on the chair flattened themselves out, "I mean, if you're going to talk about me that way, the least you could do is do it somewhere where I can't overhear you."

If anything positive came out of Hermione's waking up, it was that Ron didn't ask Harry about the situation anymore while they all readied themselves for the day and ran down to the Great Hall for a quick breakfast, before making their way onto the pitch. It wasn't that Harry didn't know what to say. Actually, knowing that his peers could interpret the happenings a different way, he'd already created a full explanation to clear them up. After all, this was what you had to do when your every detail in life could be found plastered in the morning paper by some underhanded sneak of a reporter.

Down in the Great Hall, the group met up with Ginny, Andrew Kirke, Jack Sloper, Neville Longbottom, and a few people who'd also requested a chance to perform their Quidditch abilities in front of an audience that consisted of the Wizarding World's savior. Harry, aware that he wouldn't be able to keep the best of eyes on Hermione and the snitch at the same time, asked Neville to simply help her into the stands and give her a sort of play-by-play of what was going on during the session while he was directing the others out on the field. Of course, Neville agreed, pleased that he could be helpful for once, and Harry felt slightly more content to eat a fully healthy breakfast, even knowing full-well who he was forced to count on.

In the Gryffindor dressing rooms, Harry didn't feel much up to giving those around him a pep talk. After all, knowing that the Slytherin team had no idea about their first training day was probably allowing enough confidence in itself (he'd told all of those who'd agreed to be there to keep it to themselves so that no one would come and find the time to distract them). And so the stream of students filtered onto the pitch and checked the clear and light conditions of the morning. A still ground for a good kick-off, a clear sky without too much sun or sleet. . . It was like someone was trying to force the thought of a good day upon them.

As they took off into the air to get a feel of the weather, Harry made sure to glance into the stands and keep a quick eye on Hermione as Neville helped her into a seat near the stairs leading back to the ground. He could tell they were chatting, or, at least Neville was, as Hermione kept nodding her head affirmatively to tell him that she understood what he was saying.

"Er. . . Harry, maybe we should set out a Bludger so that those two. . ." Ron got his attention by coming around on his Cleansweep and shoving his face in Harry's; he was currently pointing to Kirke and Sloper, ". . .Can regain their paces on the field. And Ginny and the others can pick up the Quaffle and practice throwing it to one another before heading off to the goal posts and having a go against me."

Harry allowed himself a grin, "And why, again, was I made the captain?"

Ron turned almost completely red, allowing his mouth to open up and emit some sort of strange groaning noise, as though he were speaking as slowly as possible in order to come up with the perfect response. In the end, he just shrugged and took off for the goal posts, shouting that he'd be waiting there when the group was ready.

Ginny flew down to the box containing the Quidditch balls and opening it up, revealing the snitch in her hand, "We'll let this go first. Give it a head start!"

Harry couldn't help thinking about how the Weasley's seemed to be gaining control of his team.

While he allowed the snitch a chance to round itself around the field, he turned to the few new-comers who were waiting their turn and asked their names and year. They looked slightly intimidated by his appearance, but answered none-the-less.

"Ashley Crummer. Fourth year."

"Allen Crummer. Fourth year."

"Garret Wilson. Third year."

And all three of them were here for Chaser try-outs. . . Harry hoped that he'd have a better choice from those elaborated to him by Angelina the year before. . .

"Alright, you three. I want you and Ginny to hang around the middle of the pitch and I'll keep an eye on you to judge your passing skills. In about ten minutes, we'll move on to flying up and down the pitch and passing to get a feel of the movement. And then we'll take a shot at Ron," Harry finished in what he hoped was an authoritative tone. They all nodded and climbed their way slowly into a higher lift. Ginny joined them and hurriedly handled the Quaffle into Garret's arms. He proceeded to pass it to Allen, who stumbled a bit as he knelt to catch it, gave a half-terrified glance in Harry's direction, and shoved it at his sister.

Harry didn't know what it was, but he found that he was deeply impressed with Ashley's and Ginny's skill. Perhaps the two girls had talked in secret about what it was like on the team, but Harry knew almost immediately who his first two choices would be.

After they'd gotten all of the practice they could stand, Harry told them to head over to the opposite side of the pitch that Ron was on and continue sweeping towards the Keeper, passing the Quaffle almost constantly to one another. The four of them weren't brilliant together, minus the chemistry that Ginny and the other girl showed, but Harry couldn't help feeling the decision was mostly making itself.

Now he took another chance to look to Hermione, who was talking to Neville. It was almost obvious that the blundering boy had given her a poor interpretation of the drill, as she seemed to be the one speaking while he was the one nodding, forgetting that she couldn't see him to make sure he was listening.

Suddenly, four anonymous blurs on broomsticks flew past him and gained his attention once again as they worked their way around the pitch for the fifth time. Seeing that they were boring themselves with the second part of the exercise, Harry shouted to get their attention and they returned to his place beside him.

"Alright. You all can take a five minute break while I go check on the Beaters, okay?" After they all gave him the thumbs up in approval, he swept off towards Ron's side of the goalposts, where he was entertaining Jack and Andrew with an animated tale of how he once took on a mountain troll in a simple girls' bathroom. It wasn't true, obviously, but the way he told it, Harry had been nothing but a doormat, and Hermione had been a lovely French maiden who'd somehow gotten herself lost on the way to preach to Dumbledore about something or another. He was holding one of the clubs that the Beaters had leant him and was running his hands over the wooden form almost affectionately.

"Really; these things are easy to handle, if you've got the skill. And the Weasley's have always been a group of wonders at Quidditch, so it's nothing for us, you know?" He was saying.

"Hey, Ron; here's your chance to prove it to them. . ." Harry replied, as he pointed past the redhead towards the loose Bludger that'd finally decided to make itself known. It was winding its way around the middle goalpost and was speeding towards him.

"Er. . . !" Ron turned pink as he twisted on his broomstick, preparing to whack the ball in whatever direction he could.

Swinging the bat, he came into full contact, and the Bludger changed direction almost entirely, this time heading towards a high column in the stands, and exactly where. . .

"Hermione!" Harry shouted, horrified, as he watched her turn confusedly towards him.

Neville was stumbling around, poking at his robe pockets for his wand, but Harry knew that he'd never find it in time. . .

OoOoO

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Notes – That's it; I quit. Really. I'm done. I can't do it anymore. Lol. I worked for, literally, days on this chapter and I was really pleased with the last one, but a couple of really brilliant people reviewed it and told me about some obvious subjects that I know I'll have to get around to explaining a lot about later on and I can't take it and I'm rambling, I know, but this is infuriating. . . Lol. I'm okay; really. Just give me a couple of days to recuperate from the whole situation.

Um; reviews would be much appreciated. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next one should, hopefully, be up within a week. Maybe. If I feel like it. And if I haven't chosen to admit that I'm nothing for Harry Potter fan fiction.

So, until then. . . !


	4. Chapter Four

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Author - Chibi / Warlordess

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Disclaimer - I don't own JK Rowling's masterpiece, Harry Potter. All of the credit and my obsessiveness is thanks to her. No. . . Really. . .! Also, the second part in italics, with Snape and Hermione and Ron, is a direct quote from HPPoA and all credit for that should be given to JK Rowling. Credit for everything should be given to her, really, but if I keep thinking about that, I begin to feel useless… Lol.

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Notes - I just wanna let the readers know that this fic takes place during the trio's sixth year. Yea.

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Summary - When one of Malfoy's and Harry's rows gets out of hand, Hermione ends up injured. Harry, once known as "The Boy Who Lived" is now "The Boy Who Saw" as he offers to be Hermione's eyes. But can he manage his schoolwork, his Quidditch training, and keep his friend from running into everything at the same time? A Harmony fic.

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Warning – This chapter includes monumental fluff, shipping between Neville/Ginny, and – well – there was something else, but I can't remember what it is. Oh, well; you'll probably say so in your chapter, if there's something you don't agree with, or are confused by.

OoOoO

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Harry Potter – **Blind**

Chapter Four

OoOoO

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"Er. . . !" Ron turned pink as he twisted on his broomstick, preparing to whack the ball in whatever direction he could.

Swinging the bat, he came into full contact, and the Bludger changed direction almost entirely, this time heading towards a high column in the stands, and exactly where. . .

"Hermione!" Harry shouted, horrified, as he watched her turn confusedly towards him.

Neville was stumbling around, poking at his robe pockets for his wand, but Harry knew that he'd never find it in time. . .

Harry didn't know what he'd been thinking in both the moment before, and the moment he was currently at a stand-still in facing. Why had he told Ron to impress upon Kirke and Sloper his families' expertise in the game of Quidditch? Was he trying to get Hermione maimed or killed?

Having done this before and, being highly suspicious what with the many incidents that had happened to him on the Quidditch field, it wasn't exactly surprising that Harry was able to remember placing his wand up his sleeve for safe keeping. Quickly, he let go of his broom and hooked his legs strongly around the wooden frame, ripping the magical instrument from his clothes.

"Er. . ." What spell was he to use? Unable to think clearly, Harry shouted the first incantation that came to mind, "'_Imotrani_ _Lite_!'" The effects of the spell were instantaneous. Hermione disappeared from her place in the high benches overlooking the pitch and Neville, unsuccessful in finding his own wand, was able to duck out of the way as the Bludger went crashing past him, shattering the nimble wood of the seats just behind.

Hermione reappeared instantly behind Harry in mid-air, and, disbelieving and unaware as to the goings-on, she let out a terrified squeal, gripping at whatever just happened to be in front of her, and catching Harry around his waist. There was a split second that Harry became completely numb to everything around him at the feeling, but he shook it off, finally clearing his head enough to understand.

Hermione was _safe_. . . Thank God. . .

"H-Harry. . . What just happened? You used that Apparation Charm, didn't you. . . ?" She whimpered lightly, gripping him tighter still as he slowly descended to the ground. Ginny and Ron were the first ones beside them, hurriedly examining them both and making sure that they were fine.

"Are you alright, Neville?" Harry had enough time to call up to the Longbottom boy, who was currently regaining a stable pace of breathing, but who gave his loudest affirmative in return, ". . .And how about you, 'Mione?"

Hermione seemed to be completely unknowing of the people attempting to look her over. She was still hanging on to Harry tightly, as though she expected to vanish and reappear in mid-air once again, and was hoping to drag him along if that were the case. He managed to twist around and face her, and he gripped her on her shoulders in order to reassure her that everything was fine.

"Hermione. . . ?"

She slowly lifted her head, revealing a terrified and tear-stained face and Harry remembered, quite suddenly, that Hermione had never been one to fly, "W-what just happened, Harry. . . ?" She didn't even know what had gone on, but she was still crying? Gods, that didn't help his attitude towards the whole situation.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione. . . I think it was my fault a—" He was interrupted by Ron.

"—It was my fault, Hermione. I was bragging to Kirke and Sloper about my Quidditch talent and Harry suggested that I prove it to them by going one-on-one against the Bludger we were using for the practice session. . ." The redheaded sixth year sighed despondently and patted her on the back, "I'm really sorry. I guess I didn't have full control of the direction I was aiming for." As he said this, he didn't look Harry in the eyes.

"O-obviously. . ." Hermione's tone had turned cold and biting. She was finally able to let go of Harry, now understanding what had happened, and attempted to leap off of the broomstick even though it was still about a foot or two in the air. She hit the ground, her legs crumpling beneath her, and Ginny ran forward to pick her up by the arm. Not knowing this, Hermione called in a loud, quaking tone, "I-I think I'm just going to go back to the Gryffindor common room and wait this whole thing out there. Ginny, I know that you're in the middle of practice, but do you think you could help me get there. . . ?" Her tone died out as calmly as possible, though her voice was naturally hysterical at this point.

Ginny looked questioningly in Harry's direction and awaited his answer.

"Go ahead; it's not like I don't know your level of skill at this point. . ." He replied with a nod towards the castle, _And make sure that you get Hermione to smile before returning. . ._ He thought desperately, at the memory of all of her tears. He could still feel the residue on the back of his Quidditch robes from when she'd been resting her head there.

After Ginny had left them behind and begun leading Hermione back towards Hogwarts, Harry turned back to Ron.

"After this, let's talk." He said shortly, seemingly furious about all that had just happened. Ron, not knowing how to reply, simply regained his place on his Cleansweep and rose into the air, heading back towards the goalposts.

Harry proceeded to instruct the rest of the attempting Quidditch players but his mind was so nettled at the thought of the disaster just having taken place that he could barely keep a straight face. And so, being sure to remember clearly all that he could of the third part of the practice session, he flew back to the ground, allowed the others to follow him there, and told them to expect the list of the new members of the Gryffindor team to be posted in the common room query board later that evening. Then he and Ron proceeded to the changing rooms alone, Ginny having never returned.

It was a strange feeling. All of the sudden, as he knew that it was just him and Ron, Harry felt such a sweep of anger that he almost contemplated throwing his Firebolt against the wall in his temper. Of course, he didn't, and he had no true explanation for his mood, and so he breathed as silently as possible, hoping to rid himself of his less than satisfactory state of mind.

Ron was completely quiet as well, and he seemed to be apprehensively avoiding Harry, even though he hadn't left. He had already rid himself of his Quidditch robes, and his broomstick was over his shoulder, and he obviously didn't want to be around Harry when he was like this, but he hadn't left him. Somehow he knew that Harry still wanted to chat.

"Ron. . ." Harry's tone was very low, hardly able to be understood, "Why did you take the blame for something that was so obviously my fault?" It must have been that, because asking the very question seemed to lessen his anger.

Ron shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, trying to think up an excuse for that.

"I dunno, mate; I just didn't think it'd be a good idea for Hermione to be angry with you, even if what happened back there was your fault, which it wasn't. At least, not completely," Harry didn't understand.

"Why wouldn't it be a good idea for Hermione to be angry with me? I was stupid for suggesting that you prove your skills. I was just trying to be a prat; you don't take the blame for someone who acts like that."

"I do if he's one of my best friends. Harry, _I_ was being a prat. I was all talk, giving Kirke and Sloper the impression that I was naturally the best at their occupations on the team. You were just trying to put me in my place, and be funny about it. It's not your fault that I messed up and accidentally hit the Bludger in the direction of Hermione's place." A sigh, "I started and finished it. You just ended up caught in the middle. Besides, Hermione's depending on you to help her along, and I know that you'll be in a right state if, in anger, she refuses to let you anywhere near her." A shrug, "But she'll get over her temper with me; it happens so often that I end up acting a git, and she ends up lecturing me, and then, after about a day or two of glaring at each other and snipping away, we get back on speaking terms. I think it's different between you two."

Harry was aware of any lingering anger he'd held slipping away almost immediately at this explanation. Holding back a grin, he asked, "How so?"

"You and Hermione are more – natural? – towards one another. If you disagree, you remain silent, but you never fight out loud. And you always make up immediately afterwards, or else it's something serious. Either way, it's always forgotten. You and she have this connection that I never really became a part of, like when she's thinking of something, or you are, and the other just happens to know what it is without speaking a word. And she's so much more comfortable around you than she is with me. . . And I think I just realized something." He ended with finality.

Now Harry quirked an eyebrow. What was Ron talking about?

"What's that?" Ron looked questioningly at Harry, then around the changing rooms, not knowing what he meant, "No, I mean, what did you just realize?"

"Oh; nothing, mate. It's not something that one guy talks to another guy about. You'll just have to get it on your own. But, I'll have you know. . . If I start acting like a git around the two of you again, like I was this morning, just let Hermione slap me like she did Malfoy third year, okay? 'Cause I might not be able to help it."

Harry, unsure as of what Ron was talking about, nevertheless gave a nod.

"Er. . . Alright."

OoO

It was one of those conversations that you wanted to forget more than anything, and yet, you just couldn't.

Harry returned to the Gryffindor tower in a slight daze, confused as to how his discussion with Ron had ended. What had Ron been talking about? What had he figured out that Harry, himself, was still unaware? And why was he being so secretive about his discovery, whatever it was?

When he found himself in the common room for the first time since this morning, he saw Hermione sitting alone in the armchair the two of them had ended up sleeping in together the night before. Ginny was nowhere around and Harry was left to wonder what, if anything, could have happened between the two girls.

"Er. . . Are you better now, 'Mione?" He asked her, cautiously taking the comfortable place beside her. It didn't happen to cross his mind exactly what it was that made the place comfortable – the cushion or Hermione, herself.

"I. . . Guess that I am, now," she replied, leaning back against the arch of the chair, her pale brown-white eyes glistening as they caught the light of the fire, "I just don't know if I want to go to another Quidditch practice until after I have my vision back. Er. . . Not that there's an issue with you."

"About what happened, Ron and I are really sorry. We were both acting a bit. . . Off. And we're both willing to do whatever we can to help you forget it."

"We'll, it's not really something I can remember, concluding that I didn't see it. I just – perceiving that it happened. . . That's the problem. You know that I've never been one to like flying, or even Quidditch as a whole. And now you see why. I'm prone to being hit upside the head with game memorabilia," she joked, "so there's really nothing you or Ron. . ." she halted for a moment, and Harry felt just a bit more guilty that Hermione seemed to be holding the redhead personally responsible, ". . .can do about it."

"You know, Ron and I had an interesting conversation after we ended the training session. . . We were in the changing rooms and. . . Well, we started talking about our relationship – yours and mine, that is." Harry noticed that Hermione's gaze, though not really one at all, was focused almost completely on him, "He said that it wouldn't be great for you to be mad at me for what happened because we're closer than you and he are, and so it's easier for me to be the one helping you get better. He said that he realized something; I'm assuming that it was about us."

Perhaps Hermione didn't know it, but her eyebrows had risen so high at this point that they disappeared under her thick, curly bangs. Then she looked away, her expression returning to one of logical conclusion.

"And why are you bringing this up with me? Isn't that something you boys should be keeping to yourselves?"

"Well, I just thought that – he wouldn't tell me what it was he got. And I thought that you, what with your being so great on feelings and being able to tell when we're keeping secrets. . . I just thought you'd be able to decipher what he meant by that."

He knew almost immediately that Hermione could, because she looked as though something was constricting her throat. He leant in, hoping that, even if she were to whisper, he'd be able to catch her response, but he was mighty disappointed when she looked at him and spoke, next.

"I have no idea, Harry; sorry."

Feeling slightly awkward, Harry fell back against the cushion once again, sighing almost aggravatedly. So, even his intuitive best friend wouldn't tell him what was going on. Why were the two of them keeping secrets from him? What was it that they didn't want him to know?

It was strange; Ron had been acting almost jealous of his and Hermione's position earlier this morning. . . And then he'd apologized for it, and told Harry to let Hermione give him a good beating if it happened again. And now Hermione wasn't telling him what he so wanted to know, even though he knew that she knew. . . Not wanting to think any further of the many upsetting possibilities coming to mind, Harry tried to start up another conversation.

"Er. . . So, what happened to Ginny?"

"Oh, well, after we came back to the common room, Neville happened to walk in. He was stumbling around a lot, according to Ginny, and he seemed a bit. .. Peaky, I guess. . . And so she helped him off to the Hospital Wing. But I don't think it's anything serious; more likely he was just winded by what happened and needed a calming draught." Hermione finished, and then she looked suddenly contemplative, "Come to think of it, that was almost an hour and a half ago. I can't imagine what the two of them could be doing now. I suppose that Neville might be trying to woo Ginny, seeing as he's liked her since the Yule Ball. . . And she's probably trying to hold him at bay. . ." Hermione gave a laugh out of nowhere, "But, then again, that's not likely to happen."

Harry couldn't tell if Hermione was being truthful or if she was just having a go at him, but his eyes widened considerably either way.

"Does Neville really fancy Ginny?" He asked, amazed, yet having time to wonder what Ron's reaction would be to this information nonetheless.

"Oh, of course; Harry, wasn't it obvious after he actually tried to take on Warrington last year outside Umbridge's office? Since when do you know Neville to act that bravely on his own? He was trying to impress her, surely." Hermione still managed to roll her eyes, which Harry thought would be somehow difficult what with her condition.

Huh; somehow, that made him thought of something. . .

__

"That is the second time that you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Hermione went very red, put down her hand, and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears. It was a mark of how much the class loathed Snape that they were all glaring at him, because every one of them had called Hermione a know-it-all at least once, and Ron, who told Hermione she was a know-it-all at least twice a week, said loudly, "You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"

Had Ron been trying to impress Hermione, then, at that time? Or was he just trying to defend her as a friend? Harry hadn't really spoken up, but Ron had stood up alone against Snape. . . And that was something, considering Snape was often one to make Neville feel like crawling under a rock with a single glance.

"Hey, Hermione. . . I was just thinking – what you said – does that mean that Ron fancies you?" Why was he asking this question? Why did he care? He shouldn't. He didn't. Did he? "Or did he, ever?"

Hermione gave a disgruntled murmur and she twisted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Yes; he did. . . Or, maybe he still does. Unless, what he realized. . ." Hermione was muttering as she often did when she was planning on researching something secret in the library, or scheming of ways to get Harry a private interview with a snotty ex-Daily Prophet clientele, "but that would make things almost too easy." Her expression seemed to be one of someone who wanted badly to dart her eyes over at something in particular, but because of her handicap, she was unable to do so.

Harry, hoping to get a bit more information out of her, opened his mouth to say something more, but he was cut off by Ron's furious tone as he ambled through the portrait hole and into the common room. Harry and Hermione turned to face him with blank expressions, Harry at once noticing his flushed face while Hermione centered on his frantic manner.

"You'll never believe what I've just seen!" He stated maddeningly, walking towards them and collapsing into a separate chair.

"What is it?" Harry and Hermione queried him at the same time.

"Can't believe. . . Never would have guessed. . ." His timbre was caught somewhere between rage and wild incredulity, "It was Ginny and Neville! They were snogging in the corridor outside of the Infirmary!"

"What?" The two friends asked, also more than slightly disbelieving towards this news.

"I know. . . ! I was just walking by the hall to come up here and, well, I heard Ginny's voice and I couldn't help stopping because I couldn't tell what she was talking about and. . . The next thing I knew, I looked around the corner and Neville was snogging her!" Ron's brow was creased as though he were trying to come to terms as to how he felt about his younger sister and the Herbology geek in a relationship together, "And, well, here's what's worse. . ."

But he, too, was interrupted as the portrait hole opened up again and Ginny and Neville heaved their way inside, neither looking at one another, nor the three fellow Gryffindors in front of them. Knowing that it would be useless to escape their questions, however, the Weasley and Longbottom sat down next to Ron, who was glaring at his own feet, suddenly embarrassed for some unknown reason. Or, at least, it was unknown to Harry. Hermione, though, gave an affronted gasp in understanding, even though she couldn't even tell their expressions as evidence.

"You two caught him staring, didn't you?" She cried out, ". . .Not that you don't deserve it." She finished almost venomously to Ron, who had the grace in himself to look ashamed.

"I couldn't help it! She's my little sister! And Neville's the prat who was – he was. . . You lot know what you were doing." He stated pointedly, turning his eyes on Ginny and Neville, both of which continued to stay silent. . . Though, not for long.

"Please, Ron, it's not as if I've never kissed anyone before. I _have_ had a boyfriend or two. And it's to be expected in a relationship." Ron started sputtering but Ginny continued speaking as though she didn't hear him, "Although, that's not to say that we're in a relationship." And now she was completely scarlet in the face.

Neville was probably looking the most despondent of them all at this point. It was so much so that Harry could feel the sorrowful waves carrying their way towards him and Hermione. Ginny seemed to understand her mistake almost at once, and tried to replace her statement.

"I mean, I'm sorry, Neville. . . But you just. . . Came at me and. . . Well, it was something to be caught up in the moment like that, but. . ." Both of the Weasley children were speechless.

Unconsciously, as though Hermione felt that she was in the middle of a tense lovers' spat, she grasped Harry's hand in her own. Harry tried not to think of that at this point, even though he couldn't really understand why he'd be bothered to think of it in the first place.

"It's alright, Ginny. I guess that I just. . . Let myself go. Er, can we just forget it ever happened?" Harry had never heard Neville speak like that. He almost sounded, fearless, cold. . . As though he were actually, truly angry at someone for the first time in his life. But it was impossible to tell if he was angry at Ginny, Ron, the others, or himself the most of all.

At Neville's response, Ron started nodding his head furiously in reply, and he looked to Ginny, expecting her to do the same, but Ginny, biting her lip in anxiety, began to speak again.

"Well, no, Neville. It's not that I want to forget it. In fact; I didn't really mind it, to be perfectly honest." Neville took this chance to look at her for the first time (or at least, the first that Harry noticed), and his eyes were pleading with her, as though he expected her to come out and start laughing at him, larking him for his taking her on the way he had. But Ginny wasn't like that; in fact, she was looking at him the same way.

Ron was the first to speak again.

"No! No, no, no, no, no!" He rose from his seat and stomped his foot on the ground, apparently against the whole idea of Ginny and Neville together. Harry couldn't help thinking that he was acting a bit like a young child who wasn't getting his way, and he was sure that Hermione agreed with him after she spoke next.

"Would you like a bottle of warm milk to rid yourself of that temper, Ron?" She asked him in a simple, honeyed, motherly voice. Ginny and Neville looked at her gratefully, but she couldn't tell.

As though this statement seemed to get through to him, Ron regained control of himself and sat back down.

"Ginny, are you sure that you want to. . . You know. . . Be with Neville?"

". . .No." Neville snapped his head in her direction, looking as though all of his worst fears had been confirmed, "After all, this came on just a bit quick. But that doesn't mean that I'm not going to give it a try. It's not like I don't care about him. . . I just don't know if I care about him that way, so I'm going to be spending my time with him, hoping to figure it out." She seemed finished, but then added as an after-thought, "And there's nothing you can do to stop me, Ron."

Ron, looking addled, attempted not to yell, and, after a few moments, he won the battle.

". . .Fine." He gave a sigh, "It's not like there's really anything I can do to stop you, even if I tried my hardest. You just be positive that this is the choice you want to make."

"It is." She stated coolly, grasping Neville by the arm and leading him away, "C'mon, Neville; let's head outside to the lake and have a break from all of this. . . Tension." She glared in her brothers' direction to point out that he was the one producing it all, and then she and Neville exited the common room through the portrait hole again.

"She is so… Irritable." Ron stated in an aggravated tone, also jumping from his place and running after the two.

Harry and Hermione were left alone as they'd been in the beginning, until Hermione gave a small laugh.

"I can't believe that I was actually right about them. . . !" She stated with a chuckle.

"I can. . ." Harry replied earnestly. She was Hermione, after all. Being right all of the time was her thing.

The two of them were able to have a good fit over everything that had just happened, not once realizing that their hands were still intertwined, or bothering to pull apart.

OoOoO

****

Notes – Wow; I finished this entire chapter in one setting. There're some things you just can't help but be proud of, and typing up a 4.5 thousand word chapter for a fic featuring characters that you aren't well-acquainted with is one of them. And all in under a couple of hours! Yay for me! Now, don't you all think that I deserve a review for this?


	5. Chapter Five

**Author** – Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer** – I don't own Harry Potter of the two worlds he exists in. I'm just an active pawn in JKR's plans for creative world domination. Also, I'm sorry that there was no humor whatsoever in that disclaimer; unfortunately, I'm not a very funny person for those over the age of six.

**Notes** – First off, I just wanna let everyone know that this fic takes place during Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. As JKR's HBP book has come out, I can tell you now that this is sort of. . . my interpretation of events for this year. Not the full year, obviously, but a bit of it "Harmony-style" nonetheless. Also, I'm sorry about Katie Bell's absence. I thought that she was in the same year as Alicia and Angelina and, therefore, hadn't thought to consider differently, so she won't be featured in this fic as I've already planned this out too far to change it now.

Also, sorry about the lateness of the chapter, but my computer broke down (again) and there was nothing I could do to fix it.

OoOoO

**Harry Potter – Blind**

Chapter Five

OoOoO

It was a strange feeling Harry had, letting go of Hermione's hand after holding it for so long during and following the Weasley argument they'd been caught in the middle of. It wasn't necessarily bad, but it did happen uncomfortably fast (or so it seemed to him). It was like Hermione had noticed the comforting warmth connected between the two of them (for he was positive that he had) and had swiftly and surely removed his grip from her arm as though it had shocked her to find it there in the first place.

Whether because Harry didn't want to make her anymore nervous – (Since when had they been nervous around each other?) – or because he didn't understand the bitter stretch of emptiness that had come to be within him the split second after she let him go, he didn't know. Yet he chose to ignore this the best that he could, even though it was obviously a difficult gesture.

Hermione, sensing his new discomfort, decided that it was the perfect time to bring up a new subject and, after thinking about to herself for something suitable, landed upon his full capability of performing the Apparition Charm they'd been studying the night before.

"Well, Harry, it's amazing that you pulled it off so well; not to mention that, if you hadn't been able to, I'd probably be getting lessons from Nearly Headless Nick about how to pull off wearing a ruff without my head sliding off of my shoulders," she laughed as though actually finding this humorous but Harry couldn't help imagining such a ghastly spectacle after all he'd seen and stared at her with slightly wide eyes.

"'Mione, that's not funny at all."

"Oh, calm down, Harry; I was only trying to thank you. And besides, things like that certainly seem funny after comparing them to our adventures at the Ministry last year." After realizing that this statement probably left her friend in a difficult to determine state of mind, she apologized and continued, "Anyway, could you show me that stunt again? Er. . ." She corrected herself, ". . .Try it again and give me a sort of play-by-play of how exactly you do it?"

Harry turned slightly red in the face, his brain momentarily addled. At the time he'd used the charm to help Hermione out of her situation, he hadn't thought of anything except getting her out of harms way. These non-thoughts included the wonder of how he could so accurately perform the spell without any mistakes, confusion, or prior practice.

"Er, a-actually Hermione. . . I don't know if I could, really; it's all so hard to remember it now. . ."

"Oh, c'mon; honestly. All we have to do is have me hold a book and you can try and transfer it over to one of the tables. And just sort of help me along in your wake."

Harry didn't know if he was being flattered by her or not, but he replied nevertheless, "I don't think that you're incapable of doing it, 'Mione. I think that you were just a bit, er, distracted last time. You don't really need me to--" He stopped speaking immediately at the look on her face.

Where just hours before she was looking both desperate and tear-borne, now she was pursing her lips and staring beadily at him as though daring him to reject her.

"I – I mean. . . Oh alright; fine," and he sighed in annoyance and got up from his seat, retrieving an anonymous schoolbook from his bag (as he didn't care so much what happened to his, but knew that, though Hermione had thought up the lesson, she'd deal him a serious blow if he started thinking of the common room fireplace alight with flames at the wrong moment and something just happened to go awry straight after), "Now remember; you asked me this. I didn't boast about it, so if something happens or - or doesn't happen, depending how you look at it, I don't wanna hear any complaints; okay?" After Hermione nodded deafly at him and stood up holding the book in her grasp, Harry stood back across the room and drew his wand, breathing deeply in preparation.

And with the according wand movement, Harry stated, "'Imotrani Lite!'" And waited to hear the 'thunk' of the book transfer from Hermione's hands and land onto the table. . . Only, it never did, "Er, sorry; but I did warn you that that might happen."

"Oh, now, c'mon; try it again, Harry. Are you sure that you were concentrating hard enough on the book and the desk over there?" Hermione pointed in the direction of the staircase leading to the boys' dormitories, under the assumption that there was the place in which the surface sat, waiting to be crippled by their object of transfer.

"Of course I was concentrating. . . !" Said Harry, insulted for some reason that she would choose to think otherwise, "Let's just give it another go," he plowed on as she opened her mouth to respond, and he continued to try the Apparition Charm again, and again, a thousand more times (the exaggeration), before finally giving up almost three hours later, "That's it; I'm done. . ." He sighed, catching his breath and taking the book from Hermione's arms to stow it inside of his bag, "Besides, it's almost dinner and I still have to decide on which three of the try-outs to accept onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team as our new chasers." He figured that Hermione wouldn't care for this information and he was right, but found that she wanted to enter her two Galleons in any case.

"Well, what makes it such a hard choice to come to?" She quipped in that businesslike tone she always used when she strained herself to be emotionally detached from a certain subject, "From what Ginny told me, that boy Allen wasn't exactly top-notch, at least in comparison to Ashley and Garret."

"Well, yea, but the only reason Ashley was so well-off on her broom was because she and Ginny have been friends for awhile now and have probably talked it over about being teammates in the games more often than not. And since Allen is Ashley's brother. . ."

". . .Now I understand. You feel that Garret, though obviously a strong asset to the team, probably wouldn't feel that associating outside of the practice sessions was a necessity. But Allen, related to Ashley. . . Well, they must already get along quite well, mustn't they? Meaning that he would get along with Ginny, adding to the simplicity of their potentially great teamwork on the pitch." It was one of her matter-of-fact assumptions that Harry always waited for.

"Er. . . Exactly."

"Well Harry, I'd honestly love to help you here, but we all know that Quidditch isn't my strong point. My advice to you, however, is that you should follow whatever your instincts are telling you. They always seem to lead you right in the end." She shrugged, knowing that her statement was immature and childish and that Harry probably already considered that to be the most creative way for him to make a decision.

"I never knew that instincts meant so much to you, 'Mione; especially over logic," he replied.

She gave him one of the softer scowls that she usually reserved for Ron and spoke again as though she hadn't heard him.

"I suppose that we should head down to the Great Hall; I'm sure that Ron's probably torn through half of the table by now, after spying on Ginny and Neville in the corridors and on the grounds all afternoon."

"Right," and he held out his hand for her and steered her out of the portrait hole and along the winding halls, towards the marble staircase leading to the entrance hall. They entered the Great Hall to a vast level of muttering (as always happened when Harry Potter walked through the doors with something interesting in his wake), and Harry said, "I don't know why we haven't learned by now to come early so that we can avoid this type of thing."

Hermione nodded, aware of what he meant, and the two wound their way past the Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff tables to their own. Harry prodded Ron in the shoulder to make him move over and give room for both him and Hermione and the redhead did so, though grudgingly, allowing the two-thirds of the trio to sit beside him.

"Ron; isn't it, er, unhealthy to gawk at your sisters relationships so much?"

"Harry, she's my little sister. If I don't watch over her, who knows what could happen? She's not exactly unpopular among the guys, you know," he admitted regretfully, "I suppose it must have something to do with the fact that she plays Quidditch. Not many attractive girls are that into sports."

Hermione seemed to twitch and she snapped her head in the direction of Ron's voice with a contemptuous expression on her face, clearly irritated.

"Oh, so according to you, any girl whose worth dating must be both visually pleasing and a sports expert. Never mind if they have a knowledgeable head on their shoulders or compassion; it's all about if their faces are clear and their noses are on-center!" She sniffed in disapproval before continuing, "You're a disgrace to people everywhere."

Ron frowned and opened his mouth to respond, but Harry gave him a look that plainly said he'd better refrain from upsetting her further. It was something to prove how lax his own hormones were that he fully agreed with her in any case that Ron was a bit close-minded about his views on girls.

"Really," Ron questioned her anyway, ignoring Harry's obvious attempts to quell the comings on of the next Ron and Hermione feud, "Well, what girl do you think I should set my sights on? You?" He scoffed in remembrance of the past three years he'd been doing that very thing.

"Of course not," she scorned him and Harry could feel the heated tension not only grow much stronger, but move about, circulating between his two best mates, "All you have to do is set your sights on someone attainable, and preferably someone who knows you and is fond of you already."

Ron blinked and sputtered, muttering something that sounded a lot like, "Impossible. . ." Then, in a clearer tone, "The only girl who knows me is you, and as we've already agreed, it's not going to happen." Even while being occupied with his supper and monitoring the row going on beside him, Harry found time to watch and listen for Hermione's verification that it was true.

"Definitely not going to happen. We'd end up hexing each other to pieces by the end of our first week together," and Harry exhaled a deep breath he hadn't even noticed he'd been holding, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, "However, and perhaps you've overlooked her, there is Luna."

Harry turned, humorously eager to see Ron's reaction at being paired up with the eccentric Ravenclaw girl. It was exactly as he'd expected it to be, to say the least. Ron's eyes went so wide that his eyebrows rose and disappeared under his hair and his jaw fell slack, making his face look as though it had expanded in horror.

Hermione, having understood this to be his expression as his silence somehow spoke volumes to her, said, "Well, she's fancied you for as long as she's known you, and it's not like she's just some rabid fan whose never spoken more than a stuttering word to you."

"You must be joking, or mad, and sure surely can't be serious. Loony Lovegood? And Me? Hermione, she's – she's. . . Not. . ."

"What? A national monument of beauty? A star Quidditch player? Only I thought that I was talking to someone trying to convince me that he wasn't as much of a sexist prat as he seemed," she took a swig of pumpkin juice to avoid his inevitable snip.

"Sexist prat!" Harry knew that Hermione had gone too far and immediately took hold of Ron's arms as he stood up in his place, glaring furiously down at her bushy head. Harry didn't know what he expected Ron to do, but there was no way he was going to let him go through with something that he'd obviously regret later on, "No, Harry, really; I wasn't going to touch her. . . If she really thinks so little of me, then it's not worth it, is it?" And Ron ripped his robes from Harry's grip and stalked off towards the doors leading into the entrance hall. Obviously thinking that Harry and Hermione would be heading back up to the Gryffindor common room after dinner, he headed towards the front doors leading to the main grounds beyond.

"You know, that was. . . More than a bit much," there was no point in fudging the truth after all. Hermione could take it.

It wasn't very surprising that her eyes were full of irate tears at her argument with Ron and how far it'd went. Her appetite gone, she waited patiently for Harry to stuff a quick plate of food down his throat and then requested that they head back to their house, but Harry couldn't help wanting to make positive that Ron was okay. And so he asked Hermione to hold on for a moment and went to ask Ginny to help hoist her upstairs while he left to check up on the other Weasley. She accepted the assignment and he managed his way outside without feeling too guilty that he'd left Hermione behind without telling her why, or where he was going, or who he was leaving her for.

The grounds were rather chilly as it was nearing November and, wishing he'd bothered to get his cloak before coming out here, he ran down the lawn towards the icy lake, silently taking a spot besides his rather sore friend. Ron continued to gaze ruefully at the body of water before him and didn't bother to acknowledge Harry's presence.

"So. . ."

"Are you going to play counselor for Hermione and me?" There was a cold grin flitting across Ron's face as he said this, "Or are you here to tell me that you thought she was right?" His tone was a dare to do so and Harry plowed onward.

"Ron, you have to admit that she had a point when she, er, told you how she saw things. . ."

". . .And considering she can't see anything at all at this point makes that remarkable, doesn't it?" Ron replied bitingly.

"You know that's a bit harsh. Hermione may gave said what she meant to say in the wrong way, but the point is that she. . . well. . . the things she said were true, weren't they?"

"How can you agree with her after what she called me? Or do you agree with her on that, too?"

"Again, none of us agrees with the way it came out, but we can't deny the truth. . . Besides Hermione, what girl have you fancied that hasn't been attractive and/or good on the Quidditch field? I mean, girls like Luna are funny, and smart (she's in Ravenclaw, isn't she?), and she already likes you; even I've noticed it. And I never knew about you and Hermione--"

"--Would you stop trying to match me up with Luna Lovegood? What is with you today? You wake up all cozy with Hermione in the common room, train the Gryffindor Quidditch Team for the first time and save her from getting her head blown off by that bludger, you don't defend me or my reasoning after Ginny and Neville come back from their snogging, and then you try to get me to flirt with Loony!" Ron's breathing was ragged after saying all this and so he didn't continue.

Harry couldn't think of anything to say at this point and so he merely sat there and stared at the depths' of the lake before him, ignoring Ron's suddenly self-conscious fidgeting although, for the life of him, wishing that he knew why Ron was acting the way he was.

"So. . . You know, now, do you?" Harry looked up to find that Ron was avoiding his gaze, "About - about how I. . . you know. . . about Hermione?" It didn't seem like he was merely asking the question so that Harry could answer, but that he felt it would relieve him of some leaden tomb that'd been sitting upon him for quite awhile.

"Er, yea. After I met up with Hermione in the common room and before you came back, we started talking and it came to joking about Neville and Ginny and the likelihood that he was trying to woo her and I didn't really get it. . . And Hermione kind of detailed about how Neville had fancied Ginny for awhile, how it was so obvious last year. It reminded me of that time in third year, Defense Against the Dark Arts, when Snape was substituting for Lupin. . ."

Ron was bright red in the face now at the thought of the memory Harry had brought back to him. Not knowing how to reply, he waited in silence for Harry to continue, which he did.

"That means," something seemed to dawn on him in that moment, "that you were jealous of me and Hermione this morning, weren't you? And that talk in the changing rooms? That thing we were talking about, how you said that you might not be able to help it? You meant. . ."

"Yea, sorry mate. I never knew why I liked her; she's always been a bit. . . mad. And it's like she said; we'd end up killing each other in no time flat. Nah, she's much better off fancying you."

Some part of Harry, a part of him that he often felt was irrational and therefore worthy of ignorance, firstly felt bristled at the turn their discussion had gone in and then somehow leapt up as though relieved.

"Er, what do you meant by that?" Harry asked rather loudly, attempting to suppress that strange uplifting emotion and the quickened beating of his heart. Ron lifted an eyebrow at him, confused by his tone, "Sorry. . ." Harry finished sheepishly.

"Right; I meant that. . . Well, you know how Hermione is with logic, and you know how she feels about a relationship with me. Thinking about it, even if she hasn't yet, she'd be most comfortable, safe, and happy if she were in love with you."

". . .Oh," was the only thing Harry could reply with, "It is just me, or have things gotten a lot more. . . affectionate. . . around here lately?" And the bespectacled boy looked around as though expecting to see pairs of students walking around the grounds holding hands or else hidden behind bushes and trees, snogging ruthlessly in the shadows that the sunsetting horizon was producing over the lawn, "Well, anyway, you don't have to worry. It's not like there's really anything going on between us, so there's nothing for you to be jealous of." Somehow that thought didn't make either boy eager to keep talking about the subject, and so Ron took the matter into his own hands.

"I suppose that we should head back inside before it gets dark, otherwise Filch will be on us as soon as we take our first step inside." The redhead stated, his tone laced with simplicity and politeness, and he reached his feet to pat himself down. Harry followed suit, hoping that, now he'd talked over his aggressiveness with someone, Ron wouldn't have to resort to biting his head off at Hermione upon entering Gryffindor Tower.

After managing their way inside the castle, up the marble stairs, along the corridors, through concealed doors, and up _other_ anonymous staircases leading them to Gryffindor, they gave the password to the Fat Lady ("Mandrake") and entered the common room which, for such an early time, seemed to be rather empty. Considering the amount of students in the house, only about a couple dozen resided in the armchairs and around the fire, talking animatedly amongst themselves about the weekends' events.

Harry and Ron neared the table at which Ginny, Neville, and Hermione sat around. The Weasley and Longbottom couple were dodgingly plowing through a game of Exploding Snap and Hermione was petting Crookshanks with a worried expression on her face.

"ER, hello, you lot," Harry sighed, taking a seat. Ron chose to stand awkwardly beside him, not sure where he and Hermione stood with each other and not willing to apologize he was completely silent as though hoping Hermione, in her state of mind, wouldn't realize he was there, but there was no luck in it.

"Ron? Please, don't act like you're not there. . . It's not fair to think that you can take advantage of my lack of sight. . ." She was on the verge of tears again and Ron, feeling guilty, responded.

"Okay; fine, Hermione, I'm here."

"I just. . . I wanted to say that I'm sorry. Although I still think that you should open your eyes just a bit more, I know that a couple of things I said earlier at dinner were uncalled for, so I apologize."

Harry could tell that Hermione was really trying to put herself out and douse Ron's anger at her, but he didn't understand why. On almost every other account, the two of them would either stay angry and resentful at each other for a week or two, or they'd end up spending the day apart or getting a good nights' sleep, waking up the next morning, and acting as if it'd never happened. But neither had ever chosen to take the time to apologize, for neither had ever felt that they'd done a single thing wrong.

Ron, who seemed to be battling with something from within him, sputtered for a moment and then looked away as though she'd been staring scrutinizingly at him.

"Yea; I guess that I'm sorry, too."

And the two of them left it at that.

OoO

Almost three hours later, Harry would be found in the Owlery, hoping to find Hedwig before she left on her nightly feeding stroll. A quickly scrawled note was clutched in the boys hand and he sighed as he tied it to his owls' leg, resigned to the pointed truth. With a quick affectionate nip, Hedwig soared out of the window, her course of flight curved against the stone of the castle.

Harry stared blankly after her, his thoughts on the events that had taken place earlier, after Ron and Hermione's apologies to one another.

Ron had had to leave for Prefect duties ("Now that you're incapacitated, I've got to patrol two floors!"), Ginny and Neville had decided to move a bit closer to the fire as the air grew chilly around them, and Hermione had been left to ask (or demand) that Harry help her with Ancient Runes. And so he'd pulled out her book from the aforementioned class and opened up to the page she'd already bookmarked ahead of time.

It took twenty mispronunciations, ten questions on Hermione's part, and ninety minutes wasted time before Ginny came over and told them both that she was turning in early since the next day was Monday, meaning that they all had to be up rather early for their classes.

Hermione, sniffing slightly at the thought of getting absolutely no studying done that day, accepted her schoolbag from him after he'd replaced her book and bid him goodnight before allowing Ginny to help her slowly upstairs. It took two seconds for him to find a spare piece of parchment and decidedly begin to write a short letter explaining his hopelessness in assisting Hermione in her studies and then, because he knew what disarray she'd probably be in up in her dormitory at that very moment, he'd headed immediately to the Owlery, being careful to avoid Slytherin Prefects, Filch, and Mrs. Norris.

And now he stood staring out of the window his friend had just flown from, feeling slightly dim as to his own behavior. He could see the black jet smoke being emitted from Hagrid's cabin and allowed his thoughts to wander to those of how Hagrid was doing with Grawp, and Madam Maxime.

Blinking and feeling suddenly exhausted, Harry yawned widely and stepped across the room to the doorway and down the stairs with slight caution, aware of any sounds around him. The evening was actually very calm for once, which he supposed had something to do with the fact that he wasn't feeling guilty or uncomfortable after just having snooped around the corridors after dark, searching for something about someone to wonder about.

But then, his thoughts mulling over even now so relentlessly, how could he still have been feeling so confused these past few days. And though he was bewildered, he could only conclude that not all mysteries he would spend his life being involved in would be products of strangers.

OoO

Breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning would have been very uneventful had it not been for a couple of surprises that nearly blew Harry's mind.

First, there was Hermione, who'd become almost resigned to her condition so well that she didn't notice anything was different until Harry, who'd reached out to pour some porridge into her bowl, had started in realization that she'd begun doing it herself.

"Hermione!" His shout of surprise almost sent the bowl and ladle she was holding flying into the air, "Did you - you know that you just poured that on your own, right?"

"Oh, my; you're right, Harry!" Her tone was utterly delighted at the thought of the sights she was finally enabled again and she took no time in ducking under the table and retrieving an anonymous book from her bag. Her face disappeared for a few moments as her eyes scanned rapidly over the pages before her, but when she pulled back and revealed herself in full form, it was with an expression of distraught written so firmly that no one would be able to mistake it for anything else.

"Er, something wrong?" Harry and Ron asked her in unison.

"This is terrible! Everything is so fuzzy! In fact, the only things I can use to differentiate between one object and another are the outlines of those objects! It's like I'm constantly squinting!" She growled in fury, ". . .And I still can't read anything!" This seemed to be the proclamation that she'd been working her way up to.

". . .Sorry about that," Harry told her distractedly, for Hedwig had just landed in front of him with a piece of parchment tied to her leg, which he hurriedly removed, untied, and read, "On the other hand, you shouldn't have to worry about falling any farther behind in your studying four months ahead of every subject." There was something satisfying in the way he said this and Ron immediately leant in to read the note he'd just gotten over his shoulder.

"And what do you mean by that?" Her brow was furrowed in that McGonnagall-like way that the two boys had grown so accustomed to over the past few years.

"Well, I've set you up with a. . . How do I put this? A. . . 'special needs tutor'. She'll be meeting you in the library tomorrow evening, six o'clock, to discuss and study the class lessons that I'm not good at helping you with. Potions, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes for a few."

By the simplicity of her expression, Hermione seemed to be torn between pride in Harry's wit at doing such a thing for her, and agitation and pain at being dumped so easily into someone else's lap.

Harry felt almost instantly guilty at how he'd broached the subject but felt that, alongside that thought that there wasn't much he could do to prevent the study sessions from happening, the fruits produced would be so obviously worth the labor.

"Well, c'mon now; who is it?" Hermione asked in a brisk tone, turning back to her bowl though not exactly feeling very ravenous, and taking a bite of her breakfast before glancing back at Harry, "You can't want to keep it a secret from me; you might as well tell me now."

Someone cleared their throat from behind the trio, as though to introduce herself, and they swiveled partly in their seats, craning their necks to see whoever stood behind them, but Harry already knew who it was.

"Er, Hermione Granger, meet Cho Chang," he said stiffly to help that uncomfortably silence along, "Cho, Hermione; but I believe that you already know each other?"

OoOoO

**Notes** - WooT! Sorry for the extended wait on this chapter! A million things have happened since my last update, such as my mom coming home from the hospital, seeing my younger brother for the first time in almost two months, the 6th Harry Potter book coming out, which I was so disappointed in. . . I really was, and also that interview JKR did afterwards. Well, whatever. My opinion hasn't changed, as is evident in this chapter. I still feel that Harry and Hermione are not only the best for each other, but they just make the most sense, don't they?

Okay, moving on. Reviews would be happily received, my friends. Please click that annoying lil' button at the bottom of the page and tell me what you thought of the chapter!

**Special Note to Readers** - Okay, alongside all of the issues stated above, I'm going to add that my mom is to go back to the hospital for a huge surgical procedure, and that I might be getting my first job, so I have no idea when the next chapter's going to come out. Please stay tuned, though, in any case.


	6. Chapter Six

**Author** – Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer** – I don't own Harry Potter of the two worlds he exists in. I'm just an active pawn in JKR's plans for creative world domination. Also, I'm sorry that there was no humor whatsoever in that disclaimer; unfortunately, I'm not a very funny person for those over the age of six.

**Notes** – Okay, quite a few warnings and notes in this chapter. First off, I know that some people are expecting hints of things placed in the HBP book to be in here, but seeing as that seems a bit like plagiarism to me, I'm going to stick to the good old-fashioned fandom stuffs. Snape will still be teaching Potions, which plays a role in this chapter and a bit of Malfoy-bashing type of stuff. Not really bashing… But he does get pulled out of class by the ear for something… So, yea, things are happening. Also, please note the fluffiness and the newly revitalized Ron/Luna ship hinting!

OoOoO

**Harry Potter – Blind**

Chapter Six

OoOoO

Harry couldn't help the anxiety he felt as he watched the two girls stare at each other, both of their expressions lacking any dictation of emotion they were feeling towards one another. He really wasn't sure why there would be any ill will between them, except for that very small fact that his relationship with Cho ended over his friendship and constant defense for Hermione. Yet the bushy-haired Prefect looked just as stiff, and there was no denying that less than fond expression on her face.

"Of course," the girl said, holding out her hand for Harry's ex to shake it and, for once, it wavered in the right direction, "Er, Cho, I guess that I should be thanking you for agreeing to help me. I mean, I know that your relationship with Harry didn't end on the best of terms, and so. . . Thanks, I guess. That's all I can really say."

Cho gave a tinkling laugh and turned to Harry, slightly red in the face, "Right; but after our conversation the other day," Hermione's head snapped questioningly in the direction of Harry's indistinct figure as well at this point, "I dind't think he'd ever accept my offer to help you both out. I'm glad that I was wrong."

"Hmm," was all Hermione seemed able to reply.

"So, I suppose that I'll see you tomorrow evening in the library." Cho said, sensing that the discussion had started to turn cold, "around six. Harry can drop you off with me and we can work for up to three hours, alright?"

"Oh, hold on a moment!" Harry suddenly intervened, "Maybe Ginny should know about this; she is the only way for you to get up to your dormitory, unfortunately." He took a moment to run down the table to Ginny's side and the two of them exchanged a few words. Hermione couldn't help staring at Cho during these few seconds that the two of them were alone (besides Ron, who had decided that it was better not to get involved) and she couldn't help thinking that the Ravenclaw girl looked so. . . positively _chipper_ about being able to assist Harry that it was almost frightening, ". . .go. . . Did you hear me, Mione?" Her attention snapped back to Harry, who was sitting back in his seat again, "I said that everything's a go. Now we just have to make it through today and tomorrow's classes."

"Well, anyway, I'll see you both tomorrow night." Cho stated, giving Harry a lingering grin before walking back to the Ravenclaw table to finish her breakfast. It was something that Ron noticed and he nudged Harry humorously in the arm as Hermione turned back to her food and stared at the depths of the porridge in her bowl, as though hoping to drown herself in it.

"Looks like she isn't over you yet, mate. . . Maybe that's why she's offering to help you with Hermione. They never seemed to care much for each other before, did they?"

"Well, yea, but. . ." Harry looked back at Hermione, but she seemed to be focusing completely on her food and ignoring them the best that she could, ". . .But Hermione was perfectly civil and friendly last year, and the only reason Cho was so antsy while we were together was because she thought Hermione was some sort of romantic rival or something," Harry proceeded to absentmindedly stuff a bite of toast into his mouth.

"Really?" Something about Ron's demeanor seemed to mysteriously brighten and he said, "Hmm. . . how interesting." He too finally got the chance to continue eating.

"Is it? Actually, I always considered it slightly annoying. And, not to mention how funny this is, but her vendetta against Hermione is why we broke up to begin with. . . Er, both times." Harry sighed as Ron let out a chuckle, "First Cho thought I was meeting Mione at the Three Broomsticks for in Hogsmeade for a date because I had the interview for The Quibbler that day and then there was her hex on the D.A. Member List that Marietta got caught with."

"Sounds like Cho felt that she didn't have much of a chance against 'Mione; then again, not many do," Ron continued to laugh as the trio rose from their seats and walked out of the Great Hall, Harry cautiously leading a still silent Hermione behind them. She was still determinedly ignoring both boys in their conversation.

Harry joined in with Ron's humor, appreciating the redheads cool attitude after all that had happened the day before. . . There was no doubt in his personal agreement that there weren't many girls who could compete with Hermione in whatever she set out to do.

OoO

Monday had hardly ever been the best day of the week. First of all, it was the beginning of their classes so, naturally, it wasn't bound to be excitedly anticipated, but Monday usually held the worst combination of classes. Indeed, the only Professor they had to worry about was Snape, as Harry and Ron had gotten rid of Divination, and Care of Magical Creatures wasn't until the end of the week, but there was also Malfoy in Potions. . . And it would be their first time seeing him since he'd ended up blinding Hermione on Friday.

"Don't try anything. . ." Hermione murmured as the trio walked into the dungeon classroom. Malfoy, Pansy, and a few others were sitting in their seats already, smirking and muttering. When Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked past, their snide expressions brightened ominously, giving Harry a sense of foreboding.

"We might not be able to help it. I can guarantee that they're going to do something. . . I just know it. . ." Ron whispered scathingly, sitting beside the others and glaring up at the front of the class.

"Well, if they do, Snape will stop it." Hermione replied firmly, eyeing Ron's wand as he slowly pulled it from the pocket of his robes, "I won't let you get a detention because you were thick enough to take Malfoy's bait."

"Are you kidding, Mione? Snape's never stood up for a Gryffindor! And I doubt that he'll start now, seeing as it's Malfoy who'd be provoking it! Besides, it's a detention well-earned if I can make that dung-head crawl on the floor like a slug!" Ron's tone was slightly dreamy at the thought of this vengeance.

"As brilliant as that is, maybe Hermione has a point, Ron. Given, Snape hates us all--"

"--Ah, and let it be known just how mutual the feeling is--!"

"--but, well/ Madam Pomfrey said that she told the entire staff about Mione's condition. If anything, we have McGonagall and Dumbledore on our side. . ."

"--Yea, but it's Snape. . . !" Ron moaned, just in time for the Professor to enter the dungeon, snarling in his usual unanimated way as he strode to the front of the room. He didn't glance once at Harry and the others, and completely ignored Draco as he pulled a small container of something from his schoolbag. Upon reaching the front of the class, Snape turned and began speaking.

"Quiet," he started simply, "Well, it has come to my attention that some of us are not at our best as of late, while others have not been keeping up with the workload I've been assigning you the past few weeks. . ." His gaze finally slid over the trio sitting in the back of the room and the Slytherins took this chance to give a small chorus of laughter, "Therefore, the Headmaster has instructed that I give you a simpler list of things to do. Today you'll be following a series of instructions for a generic concoction known as a Determination Draught. Hopefully, you all are bright enough to read them through and carry them out correctly. I can only pity those who fail, as this is Fourth Year work." He turned and flicked his wand at the board, as always producing a proper line of perfectly similar measurements. Snape seemed to be finished with his daily lecture, but at the last moment, he turned back and said, "Oh, yes, and be careful of Miss Granger, who seems to be less than healthy." Truth be told, he definitely didn't sound all that worried about Hermione's condition, but Harry and Ron held back the strength of that angry feeling boiling in the pits of their stomachs and, conceding to her advice of not to do anything, took out their ingredients and got ready to work.

Harry had already pulled out his potions kit, removed the measured items and his cutting knife from within, and set his cauldron with water to begin boiling when he realized that something seemed to be missing. He just couldn't put his finger on it, however. . . until Hermione let out a tiny hiss. He felt like sneaking one of the Beaters' bats and knocking himself over the head with it for forgetting that he was supposed to help her get through class, and he turned to ask her if she needed him. . . but he faltered when he noticed why she'd suddenly made herself known that way.

She had pricked herself on one of her snake fangs, and Harry sighed, grateful that they were the non-poisonous kind. But a moment later, the frown returned as he noticed a rogue beetle-eye laying on the table in front of her, which was strange, since they weren't part of the ingredients needed for the Determination Draught.

He heard a laugh from up front of the classroom and turned to see Malfoy as he used his wand to propel five more beetle eyes at the group, one of them unluckily hitting Hermione upside the head. Snape, of course, refused to notice any of this.

As Hermione pulled the random ingredient from her hair and Harry and Ron pulled their wands from their cloaks and held them under the table, a knock resounded at the door leading into the corridor and Madam Pomfrey entered.

"I'm here to give Hermione Granger a quick check-up. It'll just take a moment." She stated briskly, and Snape waved her onward. Malfoy turned back to his work in temporary ceasefire as the nurse strode between him and his target and Harry and Ron glanced at each other, an idea forming in their minds.

"On the count of three. . ." Harry mouthed silently, ". . .One. . ."

"Ah, beautiful work, Miss Granger; I see you've been refraining from overworking them. . ."

". . .Two. . ." He continued, and Ron nodded affirmatively.

"A bit of mucus here; come to me later and I'll give you some medicine for that. . ."

". . .Three. . . !" The two boys chorused without a sound and they flicked their wands from under the table, muttered something, and caused about twenty beetles' eyes from the rather large pile on Malfoy's table to rise into the air and seiftly soar into Madam Pomfrey's direction, all of them hitting her square in the back.

"Other than that, I see that you're improv – what the--!" She jumped and rose to her feet, turning to see what had come at her and stepping on the items, slipping to her knees again. Snape turned, his nostrils flared, and he strode forward to help the woman to her feet.

"Who's indecent mind considered the assault of the school attendant a proper waste of time?" He stated in a tone of unbearable calm. Harry and Ron managed to keep straight faces as he turned to stare suspiciously at them, but Madam Pomfrey was up at the Slytherins table in an instant.

"Well, Severus, I'd say that this boy might have made a hobby out of it by now. . ." She bent to pick up a beetle eye before Malfoy could make the lot on his desk disappear and she stared closely at it for a moment, "So, this is your idea of fun, is it?" She asked coldly, turning to him.

"What? I. . . no; wait!" He tried to defend himself as Madam Pomfrey pulled him up by the ear and lead him towards the door she'd entered from only minutes before.

"Severus, may I suggest a couple of fresh detentions at the top of Mr. Malfoy's list? As for him, well, two assaults in a single week. . . The Headmaster shall find that very interesting. . ." And the woman dragged the boy from the room, slamming the door closed behind them.

Snape gave Harry one last suspicious glance before turning and walking back to the front of the room, ignoring Pansy, who'd taken the pile of beetles eyes and returned to flinging them at the trio in just as much of a horrendous vigor as the time when Malfoy had been attack by Buckbeak in Third Year.

"What. . . did. . . you. . . do!" Hermione muttered almost immediately afterward. She'd been paying attention to Madam Pomfrey's analysis of her recovery and so she'd missed the spectacle that her two friends had caused. When they looked away innocently and continued to work as though they hadn't heard her, she prodded them both annoyingly in the ribs, "I swear, if you get yourselves in trouble because of Malfoy, well, just – just don't come wailing to me when your detentions keep you from turning in your homework on time!"

"Hey. . . !" Ron moaned, "We were defending you! Give us just a bit of credit for that! Even you had to have been getting distracted by that display the git was putting on! You're telling us that, after all of that, you wouldn't have wanted to stick up for one of us if we'd been getting stung with potions ingredients while we were blinded?"

The boys grinned at each other as Hermione mulled over those thoughts, nodded, and muttered something that sounded like, "You're just lucky that that excuse made sense. . ."

And, though they'd been reprimanded by Hermione so ferociously for that small time-gap, and through the onslaught of beetles eyes that was now being flung at them by Pansy, Harry and Ron felt a great sense of pride at their handiwork. By the time all three of them were finished with their work and they'd proceeded to cap their flask-sampled, the two male Gryffindors were sure that it had been the best Potions lesson yet that year.

OoO

Of course, later on, Harry would being kicking himself for forgetting to ask Hermione if she needed his help, but she didn't bring it up in any of the other classes they shared that morning and, as they were currently working extra hard in their N.E.W.T. subjects, he didn't have much time to dwell on it.

"Oh, right; Harry, I know this might be a bit uncomfortably fitting to your schedule, but I have Arithmancy this afternoon during one of your free periods and I was wondering if you had enough time to help me up to the classroom." Hermione said in a rather brisk tone as the trio found their way to the Great Hall again for lunch.

Harry couldn't help but notice the way she was speaking and, finally, he realized that this was probably the third time she'd said anything directly to him since he introduced Cho as her new tutor that morning.

"Of course I can, Mione. Why wouldn't I be able to?" He replied in curiosity as the group sat in their usual order and Ron began busying himself with pouring some beef casserole onto his plate.

"Well, seeing as you had to ask other people to assist me with everything, I can only assume that it's because I'm getting to too much for you to handle." She too began to pull some potatoes towards her after this simple statement.

"Hang on! I told you that I was making it my responsibility to take care of you--"

"And yet Ginny helps me in the dormitory, Cho's going to be helping me with my studies, and I can finally manage to make my own plate of food. Really, Harry, what have you done to help me out lately?"

"--Well, I didn't think it'd be exactly okay to help you get undressed for bed," the two of them ignored Ron, who, upon hearing this part of the conversation, couldn't help spewing bits of beef and vegetables onto the table, "but if you're fine with it, I'll try and find some way up into the dormitory, alright? Maybe I'll fly my Firebolt through one of the windows or something. . . As for your studies, I thought you'd be pleased. After all, you weren't exactly making much progress with me. . ." Harry took a moment to massage his head at the thought of that first painful attempt of a study session, ". . .Cho's a Ravenclaw, and she'd already offered to help you on Saturday, so I thought--"

"You thought it'd be okay to just pass my on like that? Nevermind what I might think; it's not like I have feelings. . ." Hermione was now slightly hysterical as tears gathered in her eyes and began to fall, "And Cho, well, she was obviously the best choice, especially since she was just oh-so fond of me last year. . ."

"Well, I - I mean. . ." Harry sputtered, "So, wait. . . Are you just mad because it's her, then. . . ?" Why would _that_ have been?

"I. . . I - of course not!" Hermione replied, but she was looking around desperately for something else to say, "But I don't know her very well, and she never seemed to like me much before and. . . I don't know. . ." By now, she seemed to be calming down quite a bit, ". . .It doesn't seem like she's just trying to win you back. . . ?"

Quirking an eyebrow and remembering Ron's comment from this morning, Harry replied, "What do you mean. . . ?"

"Oh, c'mon. . . Harry, you said that you two broke up over me last year--"

"--You were listening this morning? You heard that?" His eyes widened.

"Of course I did. . . I may have been determinedly ignoring you but it's not like I don't pay attention to what you say, especially if I hear my name. Anyway, you said that you broke up because she kept getting angry about how much I was involved with you, and while I'm flattered about your defending me, I can't help thinking that she might be trying to make up with you by showing that she's overgrown that obstacle, meaning me. . . And while I don't mind giving you advice to try and keep your relationships from going awry, I don't want to be caught in the middle of this thing you have going on with Cho."

"There's nothing going on, really, believe me! It'd have ended without your help. . ." Harry started, but he shook his head and continued on, "But I'll make sure that she knows that nothings going to happen tomorrow night when we got to the library. So, until then, can you just bear in mind that by doing this, I'm trying to help you out? I'm sorry it didn't seem that way to begin with, but, believe me, Mione, you're on my mind practically twenty-four hours a day." Catching how obsessive that comment sounded, he tried to revise it, "I - I mean. . . Other than when I'm sleeping. No! Er, just in the sense of my trying to help you get better! Not, you know, like, _all_ of the time, or in _that_ way. . . Just. . . You know what? Forget the last ten seconds of this conversation, okay. . . ?" He ended wearily.

"Forgotten," Hermione smiled at him in reply for the first time that day and Harry suddenly understood that his stomach had made that familiar flop as it had when he'd fawned over Cho previously.

Uncomfortably aware of what that could possibly mean, he gulped and ignored Ron's inquisitive glance, pulling some food towards him and hoping that he was just awkwardly hungry.

Ten minutes later, after managing to put something away during lunch, Harry and Hermione waved Ron off to the common room and took off to the fifth floor, where she was to have her final subject of the day. After making sure that Hermione was comfortably set in her chair and her books, quill, and parchment were out, she and Harry reminded Professor Vector of her condition and then Harry managed his way back out onto the landing and down a certain staircase that would meet with a passageway leading straight to the Gryffindor house.

The fifteen minute walk gave him time to think about that strangely familiar loopy feeling he'd inconveniently felt during lunch. Even though he'd had a good fill of food during the time afterward, he was still feeling the after-affects of that winded knotted-ness, even now. Something about that seemed very. . . well. . . _bad_, for lack of a better word. After all, him and Hermione? Together? How bizarre, not to mention what Ron's reaction would be if he were to find out. . . Then again, maybe he already knew. . .

Harry shook his head. There was no way Ron could know. If he, Harry, had taken this long to figure it out, then how could Ron have been able to guess so easily? Besides, he wasn't even sure that he did fancy Hermione. She'd been there for so long; why would something like this hit him so suddenly? It just didn't make any sense, even though their partnership had become a bit of a dependence for him, and her opinions about him and his actions meant a lot, and, well, he hadn't told anyone of course, but it was always Hermione's voice that held him back when he was thinking of doing something "reckless. . ."

But, no, it just didn't make any sense at _all_.

Looking up, Harry realized that he'd reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was staring down at him, awaiting the password. After he gave it to her, she swung open to admit him and he entered the common room, spotting Ron almost immediately and, with a note of guilt , walked over to join him next to the fire.

"Saved you a place," Ron grinned, pulling his bag from a soft and comfy armchair and nodding Harry to it. Harry sat with a crooked grin, that jumpy, boiling guilt he'd been feeling earlier intensifying.

And suddenly, he realized that it didn't really matter how he felt for Hermione because, not only did he doubt the thought of her reciprocating those feelings, but there was Ron, who was currently trying to get over her. There was no way he'd just let himself swoop down and do something so stupid as intrude upon that recovery. What right did he have?

"So, Ron, what're you up to?" Harry asked, noticing that the redhead was staring intently at a piece of parchment with unfamiliar handwriting scrawled all over it.

"You wouldn't believe it, mate. Luna Lovegood's just invited me to Hogsmeade on Saturday. . . !" Upon seeing Harry's confused glance, Ron scoffed, "You do remember, don't you? This weekend's the first Hogsmeade visit of the year. . . And Loony wants to spend it with me!" Evidently this was funny, because he broke out into a bout of laughter.

"Well," Harry could only curse himself as he said this, "why don't you accept her offer?"

Ron's jaw went slack in horror. It was like he expected Luna to ask him to be a ritual sacrifice for one of her strange hobbies if he did. Gulping, he asked, "But. . . why?"

_Why? Well, frankly, I think I've fallen for Hermione, you know, that girl that you're trying to forget about ever fancying, and so I was just hoping to have some time with her alone on Saturday, which is hard to do when your best friend is tagging along. . ._ But wait, Harry wanted to remain friends with Ron, didn't he?

"Well, why not?" He countered instead and, realizing that Ron had opened his mouth to say something, he continued, "Luna's a nice girl, Ron, no matter what type of vegetable she wears on her ears or how many non-existent creatures she plans to spend her life and family savings trying to catch. What's so wrong about her? Think about it, she and Mione have a bit in common; both of them tend to drive you a bit batty, don't they?"

Scoffing again, Ron turned up his nose a bit, ". . .Maybe. . ." He admitted, "But that doesn't mean that I'd want to spend all of my life learning to tolerate them. Anyway, Luna might be a bit easier to stand, seeing as she's funnier. . ."

And now, that urge to curse himself into oblivion returning, Harry dealt the final blow, "All the more reason to get to know her better!"

"Well. . . I mean, I guess I could, you know, give her a shot. . ." Ron gave in, turning over the parchment Luna's note was on and scribbling something along the lines of a 'Yes; thank you' down with his quill, "She used a school owl to deliver it and so I've gotta go up to the owlery to find Pig. You have to go get Hermione from Arithmancy soon, right? Why not tell her when you do that I'm not going to be able to join you two this weekend, alright?"

"Er, sure. . . I can do that, I guess. . ." Harry said as Ron shoved a couple of second years out of his way in his haste to get out of the common room.

"Well, wasn't he just a bit excited about something?" Ginny said as she pulled a bashful Neville over by the hand and claimed the seat that her brother had abandoned.

"Yea. . ." Harry murmured, although he had no idea as to why, "So," he started, shaking himself out of his reverie, "how're you two doing?"

"Pretty well, thanks, considering we've only been together for about twenty-four hours." She allowed him a smile, "How about you and Hermione?"

Obviously taking this the wrong way, he sputtered, "I – what do you mean? We're not – not in that way, at least. . ." He said, feeling very hot all of a sudden.

Ginny laughed, "No; I mean, this was her first day in lessons since Malfoy blinded her, right? How's she doing?"

"Oh. . . well, I don't really know."

"Hmm. . ." Ginny's smile faded almost instantly, making her resemblance to her mother almost uncanny, "Shouldn't you be making it your point to know? You're supposed to be helping her recovery, after all. Didn't you say that if she tries too hard to do things and strains her eyes, it could leave permanent damage?"

Oh. . . yea. . . But she started getting her vision back today and she didn't really ask for my help in class. . ." Harry attempted to defend himself, remembering how, while Hermione hadn't asked for his assistance at the time, she'd still been very sore with him about Cho.

"Well, if you were really taking her in as your responsibility, then you shouldn't wait for her to ask, should you?"

"I. . . No, I guess not. . ." Not wanting to argue for much longer, Harry checked his watch and quickly rose from his seat, "Well, would you look at the time? I've gotta go pick up Mione from class; I'll see you two later!" And he made his exit through the portrait hole and down the corridor before either Ginny or Neville had a chance to reply, slowing down next to the familiar hidden passage that would take him straight to the floor below the classroom.

Given, he still had about ten minutes before he had to be outside the Arithmancy corridor and so he leisurely made his way upstairs, heading in the direction of the Arithmancy class doorway and standing there until the door opened for the class to be dismissed. Hermione exited last, groping at the walls and stumbling slowly into the hallway.

Harry sighed and calmly grasped at her hand and she gave a small squeal.

"It's okay, Mione; it's me."

"Oh. . . Oh, Harry, don't do that! Why are you here anyway?" Hermione asked, continuing down the hall with him just managing to keep a hold on her.

"Wasn't I supposed to come get you?" He asked, confused.

"I never asked you to. I only wanted you to drop me off. I need to go to the Hospital Wing in any case," she said, turning a corner.

"Oh, well, that's fine; but you have a problem. You're going the wrong way." He told her, pointing over his shoulder and letting a small grin grace his features, but then it vanished as she turned, nearly ran into him, and continued the opposite of the way she'd started, "Why do you need to go to the Hospital Wing? Is something wrong?"

"No, not really. I just have some mucus, I suppose from all of the crying, and Madam Pomfrey has something that can help. She said so in Potions. . . Which you'd have heard, if you hadn't been taking revenge on Malfoy. . ." Hermione ended in a grunt, squinting as she saw the staircase that would lead her down to the Hospital Wing and made her way towards it, Harry following closely behind her.

"Are you still angry with me?" He asked suddenly, making her stop just short of the first drop.

"Don't be silly, Harry, why would you think I was still mad?"

"Because you're being thick, not asking me to help you," he told her, ignoring the glare he got two seconds later.

"I'm not asking for your help because I'm not totally blind anymore! I can help myself, alright? At least let me try before you label me incapacitated; it's just right down there. . ." She finished, taking her first shaky step.

Harry leapt forward and grabbed her hand again, wearily holding her back from anymore individual movement, "Hermione, you have barely twenty-five percent of your vision back; you're not ready to handle staircases just yet, so stop acting like you are and just let me help you. . . !"

She shook herself from his grip, "Look; I don't mind you following me around and keeping an eye on me, but you can't keep me from working alone, without your hand on my shoulder. I'm seventeen and perfectly capable of understanding my limitations. Just give me a chance to see what those are!" And she took a second, third, and fourth set of successful steps away from him.

"I'm only treating you like this because I care. . . I just wish you'd see that. . ." He murmured, slowly following after her.

She turned and glanced up at him, her expression faintly readable. Her eyes, normally such a rich almost brown, were painted misty silver, the physical affliction of her blindness.

"I do see that, and I'm trusting you with me, otherwise I'd take the little bit of sight I have back and use it to target you and hex you across the hall. I can't help wanting to try living on my own, however. You're free to follow me and supervise my mobility."

"Fine," Harry sighed and started down the stairs watching her like a hawk, and it was a good thing he did, too, because next moment, her foot had caught on the hem of her robes and she fell forwards, heading for the stone of the staircase, "Hermione!" he shouted, holding out his arms and catching her around the waist.

He twisted back in hopes of catching the railing like he had on the marble staircase the other day, but he couldn't reach it, and so he and Hermione, tangled in the strap of her schoolbag and with his arms tightly around her middle, went tumbling down the stairs, ending in a heap with Hermione on top, her face buried in the crook of his neck.

"Oh. . ." She moaned, slowly raising herself up a bit and feeling her head, and then she noticed Harry beneath her, "Ah, I'm so sorry, Harry! Are you okay?" She leaned in to inspect him as closely as possible since he had yet to make any indication that he was even conscious and she couldn't tell from a distance with her partial vision, "Harry. . . ?"

Harry was indeed awake, and staring wide-eyed at his reflection in Hermione's dulled eyes; she was so close that it made it hard for him to breathe, and so close that their noses were a mere inch apart, her lips. . . Just so far away, too far away. . . And his arms were still so tightly around her. He couldn't seem to loosen his hold and neither of them noticed, Hermione too worked up in whether she'd accidentally killed him and Harry too worked up in _her_, in every sense of the word.

And then Harry gulped down the stone that had been lodged in his throat and found his voice, "Hey. . . Well, Mione, we've gotta stop meeting like this. . ."

"Oh, goodness, I'm just so glad you're okay!" She looked like she sorely wanted to hug him, but as she still wasn't sure if the fall had hurt him, she chose to just neatly tear herself away from him and wait for him to get up, dust himself off, and readjust her glasses, "You are, aren't you?"

"Me? Are you mad? I'm the boy who lived. If I can escape Lord Voldemort five times and live to talk about it then a fall down a rough stone staircase is no problem." He joked feebly, his throat still dry from what had happened before and his mind partially numb, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but I guess that's mostly thanks to you." She said.

Harry gave a small laugh and the two stood there in silence, not really aware of the empty reality around them. Then, as if nothing had happened, Hermione took him by the hand and pulled him down the corridor leading to the infirmary. She walked right inside and up to Madam Pomfrey's office door, knocking casually.

"Right, I'm coming! And just when I was about to sit down to lunch. . ." The nurse grumbled, still miffed about the beetle-attack from Potions this morning. She opened her door and spotted Harry and Hermione standing there, "Ah, so it's you. . . Well, just a moment." She turned back into her personal room and rummaged around on a shelf of small bottles, picking a certain one filled with green fluid and returning back to the door, "Take a seat on that bed over there." She nodded, following the two out.

"So, what exactly is it supposed to do?" Harry asked, watching Madam Pomfrey as she held Hermione's head back and applied three drops of liquid to each of her eyes.

"Well, the combination of the antidote for the Sensual Hex and the body's sodium from tears or eye allergies often causes a build-up of mucus in the tear duct and the iris. Since there seems to be a rather large amount in your eyes, Miss Granger, I'm ordering that you report here every night for medicinal assistance. Not only can too much build-up affect your recovery, but it's highly irritating. . . You stay there, now. We'll need to give the drops ten minutes to set and then I want you to softly dab at your eyes with this," she finished, handing Hermione an ordinary handkerchief, "I'll be back in a few moments. And you keep watch, alright?" Harry nodded and Madam Pomfrey went back to her office, closing the door behind her.

Now it was just the two of them again, and Harry was having difficulty looking at Hermione. Searching for something to say, he looked outside the window and caught the glow of the shop and house lights from Hogsmeade village.

"Oh, that's right!" Hermione looked at him quizzically, her eyes blurred from the eye-drops, and Harry continued, "Ron got invited to Hogsmeade by Luna this weekend, so it's going to just be the two of us. He wanted to make sure you knew that."

". . .Did he?" If she had found any part of Harry's knowledge about Ron and Luna together in Hogsmeade interesting, she didn't show it. Actually, she seemed slightly put out, upset. . . And this was something that didn't please Harry in the lease, "Well, I hope that they have a nice time together. . . I think that I might just stay behind this weekend and try to do something educationally involved with myself, though. . ."

_What._ How he was feeling more than slightly off; he was downright miserable, and it wasn't necessarily about Hermione wanting to stay at the school when Hogsmeade held so many possible ways to cheer her up, either.

No, that misery he'd felt at her turning down a day with him at the village, coupled with that anxious excitement back in the corridor when they'd fallen on top of one another only allowed that bubbly, guilty feeling to arise in him even stronger than before, because Hermione's not wanting to spend the day with him, her uneasy attitude towards Ron and Luna going to Hogsmeade together. . . It only proved once and for all what he'd been dreading all day long. . .

. . .He truly did fancy Hermione, and it seemed that she didn't feel the same way.

OoOoO

**Notes** – Yes, I finally finished chapter six, and it only took me about a month longer than necessary! Hooray for me! Anyway, lesse, oh. . . Um, sorry to those who expected me to add in bits and pieces from HBP to fit the profile of this fic, but I won't be because, well, I'm just no that creative. Hopefully the woohoo(!) Harmony bits I have planned for later on will make up for that.

I guess that's all, then. . . Hmm, lesse. . . Yea, that should be it. Hopefully the Writer's Block I had for the duration of this chapter is gone, and, if so, I hope to have the next one up by mid-September. It'll be my birthday present to myself. Lol.

Reviews appreciated!


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